Savage!
by Swinging Cloud
Summary: To escape an arranged marriage, Brittany Pierce sets sail in the dead of night with her attendant, Sugar. Eager to explore her new freedom, she has no idea what's about to befall her… AU. Pirate!Brittana. Rated ARRR!
1. Escape

**Summary: **To escape an arranged marriage, Brittany Pierce sets sail in the dead of night with her attendant, Sugar. Eager to explore her new freedom, she has no idea what's about to befall her… AU. Pirate!Brittana.

**Rating: ARR!** (for graphic violence, language, and, of course, smut.) **THERE WILL BE NO NON-CON IN THIS STORY.**

**Disclaimer:** _Glee_ doesn't belong to me. If it did, it probably wouldn't suck so much.

**A/N:** Hello everyone! It's finally here. :) Thanks to everyone who's read any of my stories in the past, and if this is your first time cracking open one of my stories, hi there! Welcome aboard! XD

This should be a fun adventure. It won't run as long as my other story, **No Solid Ground, **and won't be nearly as angsty (thank the starlit heavens), but it should probably go to about 20 chapters or so. I will try and update once a week at the very least.

The setting of this story is fictional. I kind of used the Mediterranean for influence/reference, but none of the places they will go to are real. Also, since the place is fictional, the time period is also fictional. I used both real pirates and Hollywood pirates as a guide, since I didn't want to go too "arr matey" but I also didn't want to lose the fun of pirate legend. It should be a pretty balanced blend, but we shall see. I'll also try not to go too deep into ship terms, because I think it takes away from the story if you have to constantly be like "wtf is starboard?" and such.

As always, if you have questions, my inbox is always open, both on here or on tumblr (**xandylytex**) so feel free to drop me a line!

Things you can expect from this story: sword-fighting; monster hunting; Brittana romance; pirating/stealing, obvs; treasure hunting; lots of sailing; whorehouses; ship battles; canons; and other shit.

Well, that being said, I hope you enjoy the prologue.

Fair sailing! 8)~

* * *

Prince Rory Flannigan isn't too terribly ugly. Though plain-featured and rather boring, he is not _awful_ to look at, and, being so not-awful to look at, his company is not immediately rejected- on most days. He is well-mannered and polite, but his accent is exceedingly difficult to understand, and his childlike naivety (which borders so often on stupidity the two are rather interchangeable) combined with his young age make him entirely unfit to be a decent husband. He is, essentially, a _boy_.

Which is why Brittany Pierce finds it utterly infuriating that her father, Duke Charles, has deemed it necessary that she marry him.

"But he is _not_ a suitable husband!" she exclaims, trying to break through her sire's unfailing stubbornness.

Brittany has lived with her father on his estate for the entirety of her life. Her mother, she has been told, was involved in some scandal, the topic of which is forbidden from conversation, when she was the tender age of seven. She was consequently banished because of it and never heard from again. Brittany only wishes she knew what, exactly, her crime was, if only to not be doomed to commit it herself. (Are not those sorts of things hereditary?) Her upbringing was facilitated by servants, nannies, and even one of her father's many mistresses, along with her father himself. She has never wanted for anything, being quite pampered and very well provided for over the span of her lifetime, though she is the middle child, having both an older brother and a younger sister.

However, being so consequentially pampered- but not to the result of _spoilage_- Brittany can not and adamantly refuses to succumb to such ill-received terms of marriage. "Father, _please_ see reason."

"Reason, my dove?" the Duke teases, an amused smirk playing at his lips. He is a man who has ruled over his vast territory, flaunting his power and clout appointed to him by royalty. He has lived in privilege all his life, the heir to a line of many power-hungry, self-important men before him, and he rules his estate and sequent lands with firm fairness. He cares for his daughter- and all his children, really- but for her _troubles_- be they of marriage or otherwise- he cares not. What does _she_ know of trouble, having lived in the lap of luxury all her life?

"You have listed _many_ reasons why you do not care for the Flannigan boy, yet none of them will change my mind," He states, entertained by his daughter's obvious distress. "Do you abhor the color green?"

Rolling her eyes, Brittany sighs. "You know that I do not. It is my favorite color-"

"Then this is truly a match made in Heaven!" The Duke laughs and slaps his hand on his thigh for emphasis. "In fact-" he waves over his personal attendant, who sports a puff of wiry, frizzy hair and teeth like that of a rabbit's. "Jacob, take that down. Lady Brittany adores the color green-"

"_Father_-"

"-and will be wed to Prince Rory _only_ if he is adorned in such a color!"

"Yes, sire."

"Jacob, _do not_ write that. I will do no such thing!"

The Duke's humor falls instantly, and Brittany swallows at his sudden and drastic change in attitude. "Now, my _dear_, I've been a good sport," he starts lowly, his blue eyes narrowing into cold, flinty slits. "I've sat here quietly and listened to your every complaint about the Flannigan boy, indulged in your girlish fantasy of what you suppose your husband should be, and now you will do the same. You will find no better than Prince Rory, and even if you did, it would not matter. I am your father; I will decide your future, and you _will_ abide by me."

"But-"

"Enough, Brittany. No more of this. You will marry Prince Rory and that is final. Am I making myself clear?"

Brittany takes a slow, deep breath through her nose, swallowing down the panic she feels welling up inside her at being so firmly commanded to do something that goes against her every wish. She clenches her fist tightly by her side, willing herself to hold her tongue, before nodding firmly, submitting.

The Duke's smile returns instantly, the glint reappearing in his blue eyes. "Grand. Now go and get ready for supper. I hear that chef Beiste is cooking your favorite."

Without another word, Brittany turns on her heel and flees to her room. The Duke watches her go without a single shred of remorse.

* * *

"Oh, Brittany, it will be all right," Sugar, Brittany's personal attendant, soothes, rubbing comforting circles on the crying blonde's back while she weeps into her pillow. It is after dinner, and the reality of her situation has begun to sink in.

"How, Sugar?" Brittany sobs, lifting her face from her damp pillowcase to cast a mournful look at her attendant. "My father refuses to see the error of his ways. My fate is sealed. I am to wed that- th-that-" She dissolves into another round of sobbing as Sugar hushes her, her hand still continuing it's circular motion.

"Okay, you're right. It probably won't. But- he can't be as bad as you've come to learn," Sugar reassures. "And besides- you will have me beside you, to continue to care for your needs."

"But eventually he will want to- to-" Brittany shudders violently. "I cannot even _think_ it. Perhaps I can acquire a chastity belt, and throw away the key."

Sugar chuckles. "Perhaps. Although, if you do meet someone worthy, you will need quite the locksmith."

Brittany grins. "Perhaps, when I meet him, _he_ will be a locksmith."

"We can only hope for such a lucky fate."

Brittany's smile fades. "Thank you for attempting to cheer me, Sugar, but unfortunately, these are silly fantasies that will never take hold in the real world. I am to wed Prince Rory and I have no other option." She feels more tears springing to her eyes and swallows down the lump in her throat, trying to stave off the constricting feeling. Her stomach twists at the thought of losing her freedom forever. Knowingly, Sugar pulls Brittany against her and strokes calming fingers through her hair. Brittany settles against her shoulder, feeling equal parts soothed and depressed.

"I always thought that when I married, it would be for love," Brittany confesses softly, a fresh tear making its trek down her cheek. "Not to cement some senseless contract to secure more land or more power. I thought I meant more than that to my father."

"No," Sugar says honestly, but then at Brittany's gasp, she amends, "I'm sure he only wants what's best for you, Britt."

"How can what's best for me make me so miserable?"

Sugar opens her mouth to answer, when a knock at the door startles her. Brittany quickly sits up, wiping her tears, as the Duke enters her bedchamber and Sugar exits to allow them so privacy. Keeping her back to her father, Brittany crosses her arms tightly against her chest. She will not show him weakness.

"Bumblebee," her father starts, setting a hand on her shoulder, "It pains me to see you so upset. I am sorry for being harsh with you earlier, truly I am. I am only trying to ensure you have a future, sweetness. Please, do not be cross with me."

"I am old enough to decide my own future, Father," Brittany says sharply, pulling away from his hand.

The Duke laughs. "Oh, darling. You are so young, and so naïve. You think you know something about what's out there, but you do not. I have kept you safe and protected, and now I must pass you on to a man who will do the same. With Prince Rory you will never have to worry. He will provide for you and take care of you, and someday when your brother returns from the war-"

"He will _not_," Brittany grumps.

"Hold your tongue," The Duke snaps. "He _will_ return and rule in my place, and unite the two territories under his leadership."

"If _he_ is to do all this, then why is it that you need me?"

"I already told you, Dear One- to ensure you are taken care of."

"I can take care of myself!" Brittany snarls, pulling away. "I am not helpless!"

"Brittany," the Duke says, his voice taking on a hard edge, "do not be _stupid_. You have lived on this estate all your life. You cannot even dress yourself without your servants. Do not be so bold as to presume you are capable of doing _anything_ on your own."

Brittany bites her lip, feeling her tears return at her father's harsh words. _I'm not stupid_, she thinks. "I'm not stupid," she whispers out loud, and her father laughs.

"Prove it, then. Marry Prince Rory and make a future for yourself. Do your duties as my daughter. You have no other choice." With that, he stands and leaves, and Brittany collapses into another fit of crying onto the bed. Moments later, Sugar rushes in, gathering the blonde into her arms and quieting her mournful sobs.

Once Brittany has cried herself out, Sugar gets up from the bed, checks the room, and, once satisfied, locks the door.

"Sugar, what-"

"Quiet now, Britt, we must talk quickly before we're discovered," she hisses, and Brittany's so surprised, she snaps her mouth shut and listens, her blue eyes wide with intrigue. After one deep, dramatic breath, Sugar raises her eyes to Brittany's and smiles.

"I think I've figured out a way for you to escape your marriage to Prince Rory."

* * *

Samson Evans is not the smartest man in the employ of the Duke, but he is the most loyal. He came into his position quite by accident, acquiring it from the former Captain of the Guard after witnessing some illegal dealings by him. Being the type of man with strong morals, he immediately reported those dealings to the Duke, and as a reward, Sam was given the title of Captain. He is young, having seen only a few more summers than Brittany, but he has served the Duke faithfully since he came of age and took up arms.

He is skilled and very well-trained; he prides himself in keeping his body in top physical condition. He also has (and has had for years) quite the eye for the Duke's daughter. He's spent every chance he could get spending time with her, watching over her on those rare occasions when she needed to leave the Estate to venture into town, and genuinely admiring her obvious beauty from afar- her blue eyes, her blonde hair, her slim, toned body. He does not think highly of her intelligence, but he likes that about her. She is simpler than he is, and though he understands only half of what she says, he finds her idiotic mumblings rather endearing. Often he has dreamed of making her his wife, but he knows that she is promised to another man; he knows his boundaries.

Still. His feelings remain.

And it is those very same feelings that drive him to meet with Brittany and Sugar on this dark, tranquil evening.

"You're certain you can guarantee safe passage to Argo?" Brittany demands in a hushed whisper. Sugar had snatched her, in the dead of night, to steal away from her father's mansion and make the journey down to the wall. Now, shrouded in a black, hooded cloak, she stands under the cover of darkness by the tall, stone wall encasing the grounds of the mansion, conversing with a man she believes to be a friend.

"I am certain," Sam reassures, nodding stiffly. "I know these waters well, My Lady. You will be safe, and we will be in Argo in less than a week. I swear it."

"Then guide me away, Captain Evans," Brittany says with a wry, relieved grin. "I do not wish to remain here and have my life stolen from me."

"Of course, My Lady. Follow me." Sam turns, then pauses. He twists back and boldly slips his hand into Brittany's. Their eyes meet, and Brittany reassures him with a friendly smile. Though she finds it odd that Sam has taken her hand, she is not one to throw around her authority.

_And_, she reminds herself, _you are going to live among normal people. It is time you forgot your title and your formalities and simply embraced the blessed simplicity of an ordinary life._

Smiling wider, Brittany squeezes Sam's hand and allows the blonde-haired man to lead her, along with Sugar, who carries a satchel of their belongings, out of the Estate. She feels safe with his large, warm hand in hers. Sam has always been kind to her, and he is doing her a great service- one that may get him banished, or at worst, _killed_, should they be discovered- and she is eternally grateful. She makes sure to keep her face obscured with the hood on her cloak as Sam guides her around a building and to a very small carriage, which she and Sugar board silently.

Once inside, her heart pounds. She's really doing this. Sugar watches her, her eyes bright, her expression anxious but hopeful. She smiles, and Brittany smiles back. She's _really_ doing this. She stares out of the small window in her carriage, listening to the fast-paced clopping of hooves as the pony draws it down the worn, dirt road, and watches the dark trees go by. She's never actually been completely off of her father's lands. But now, as the mansion grows smaller and smaller in the distance, she feels her nerves picking up and her stomach twisting with excitement.

She can taste the barest hint of freedom.

No forced marriage. No Rory. No rules.

Brittany Pierce is twenty years old, and she feels like her life has finally begun.

* * *

When the carriage stops and Sam tugs the small door open, offering his hand to her, they have arrived at the harbor. Brittany accepts his assistance and steps down, nearly losing her balance as she takes in the sight before her. Her blue eyes widen, her mouth opening in awe at the huge ship, situated not ten yards away. A long, ribbed plank is her only means of boarding the monstrous wooden vessel, and as Sam leads her around the carriage and guides her to it, Brittany feels her excitement hitting her full force. She's never seen a ship in person, or even been to the harbor, so the towering mast and sails illuminated by lamps have her staring in wonder.

"Let us go, Brittany, before we are discovered," Sugar reminds her, and, nodding, Brittany carefully climbs up the wooden ramp and into the vast ship. When her feet touch the deck, she looks around her, trying to observe the uniformed crew as they hurry around, preparing for launch. Sam moves to talk to another ranking officer- one Brittany does not recognize, nor does she know anything about what he or any of the other crew aboard's jobs are. She's fascinated by the workings of the ship, and she watches, listening to their shouts. After several minutes, the new ranking officer gives Sam a stiff nod, and waves his hand.

"Cast the lines!"

A few men on the dock untie the many lines securing the ship to it, and after a few more shouted commands that she doesn't understand, the great ship is moving., and Brittany's heart skips a beat. The wind is strong as it fills the huge sails, and Brittany views it as a good luck omen. Perhaps Fate is on her side. She inhales the smell of the salt and the feel of the cool night breeze on her face, and smiles. She knows it sounds cheesy, but she feels as if a great weight has been lifted from her shoulders. By the time her father has discovered her gone, she, Sugar and Sam will be well on their way to Argo.

Steady footsteps on the sturdy wooden deck catch her attention, and she turns from the sight of the dark waves and the harbor to find Sam approaching her slowly. He stands next to her against the railing, placing his hands on the wooden beam, and studies the waves quietly for a moment before speaking.

"The waters are calm and the winds are strong. We will make good time before morning."

Brittany swallows. "Do you think Father will pursue us?"

"Where?" Sam asks gently. "He has no idea where we have gone- not even the harbor crew know our actual destination. I have given them false information to prevent being tailed. We have made all the necessary preparations. He will not know where to pursue us to."

Brittany nods absently, chewing her lip. She imagines her father and how furious he will be once he discovers her gone. And Sugar. And Sam-

"Have no fear, Brittany," Sam says, interrupting her thoughts and giving her a reassuring smile. "I won't let any harm befall you. You will be safe with me- I will protect you with my life."

"I know, Sam," Brittany says softly. "I am grateful you have risked so much to save me from my fate."

"It would pain me very much to see you miserable, Britt," Sam says seriously, and Brittany tries not to frown at the nickname he has given her. Only Sugar shortens her name in such a way, but she supposes she shall have to get used to it. "You should be free to marry whomever you choose," he continues, and Brittany realizes he's still talking and tunes back in in time to see him staring at her, his eyes hopeful but longing. She watches his throat move as he swallows, and her stomach twists with a sinking dread as she realizes he is nervous, and she hopes it is not for the reason she thinks-

"Actually, Britt," he starts, gathering his courage. He straightens his shoulders and slides his hand across the ship rail, laying his fingers against hers. Brittany's stomach twists further. "There is something I want to talk to you about."

"Is it about our food rations?" Brittany asks, keeping her voice steady and trying to deter the conversation. "Because Sugar told me a story once about a ship's crew that was marooned on a deserted island because of a storm and they resulted to eating each other, and I just want you to know that-"

"No, Brittany, it's not about the food," Sam says firmly. He takes another deep breath as Brittany waits, her heart pounding with anxiety. "When we arrive to Argo, I had wondered- well, hoped- that you might consider me in your future."

"Of course, Sam, you are part of my personal guard," Brittany answers, keeping her face straight. She does not want to have this conversation. Inside, her mind is panicking. She needs Sam. He is the only reason she's even on this ship. But she doesn't want him to back her into a corner, and the last thing she wants is another man forcing her into some sort of relationship-

"Well, yes, I am-"

"Then you will always be in my future." She hopes that's a good answer.

"Yes, that is true," Sam agrees, shaking his head slowly and finding no fault in her reasoning. Except- "But I was hoping I might be in your future as more of a- well, more _romantic_ sort of-"

"Sam, you are sweet," Brittany says with a genuine smile. She struggles to come up with the words that will let him down gently. "And-"

"My Lady, pardon me," the ranking officer from earlier interrupts, and Brittany turns to catch his eye. His dark hair is slicked back and he has thick eyebrows. But he is not unattractive, and he really couldn't have interrupted at a better time. Brittany holds in her sigh of relief. She nods in acknowledgement, and the man turns to Sam. "Captain, we are approaching the border."

Sam sighs. "Thank you, Anderson." He looks at Brittany. "Fetch Sugar and stay below deck until I send for you. I must explain the reason why we have left the boundaries of your father's territory. Lynn," he calls, and a man saunters over. He is young and also attractive, but Brittany doesn't find him particularly interesting. "Please escort Miss Pierce and her attendant to their stateroom."

"It's about time," Sugar mumbles, sidling up beside them. She shoulders the large satchel of belongings she carries on her shoulder and places a hand on her hip.

Brittany thanks Sam lightly and then Lynn leads them away as Sam watches. Once the two women disappear down the stairs, he waits with a stony face as their ship approaches the smaller ship on patrol at the border.

It's still days to Argo. He must play his cards right if they are to make it through the many dangers that lie in wait for them along the way.

* * *

**Two Nights Later**

**%%83**

Santana Lopez has been an outlaw for as long as she can remember. Living in poverty on the streets wasn't the easiest life, but her parents did the best they could to provide for her. Every day, her father would try and find work on the docks near their village. He had been a sailor earlier in his life, but when his country lost the War they had been fighting and they were swallowed by the new conquering sovereign, it was hard to work with such a service in his background. He was ridiculed and treated with disrespect for having fought on the opposing side, and so work- especially decent, steady work- was very hard to come by. Which left her family, like so many other natives, struggling to survive.

Her father was very knowledgeable about sailing because of his background, and he taught her everything he could. He explained to her about the rigging, the process for casting a ship, and various forms of knots. Sometimes he would bring home gillnets or trawls that were torn that he would fix for an extra profit, and she would help him mend or replace the ropes working long into the night together.

In the mornings, he would travel by foot to the docks in the hopes that he would be able to take up a daily job on a schooner or some other fishing boat.

One day, he never returned.

Santana had always wondered if he was lost at sea, or if he simply found a good job and had to leave right away. She and her mother waited with high hopes for his return. _Maybe he found work on a whaling ship_, they'd said. _And he will return with a pocket full of money, and we will finally have a place of our own._

After a few months of waiting, they gave up their optimistic way of thinking. He was never coming back.

With her father gone, the responsibility to support them fell to her mother, but her limited skill set which included the mending of clothes and linens combined with the fact that her accent was spat upon was not enough to put food on the table. Most days, they starved. Until one day, her mother never returned home. Santana found out later from other villagers that her mother was arrested for theft and immediately executed, and no one thought twice about it. It was a comman occurence, but that did not make it any less devastating for Santana, and did not help her abandonment issues.

At the tender age of 11, she was on her own.

She knew she could never get a job as deck hand- not as a _girl,_ anyways. She hid her gender, charmed the crew of a merchant ship, and landed herself a fulltime job as a swabby, keeping to herself but proving her worth several times over by displaying her knowledge of rigs and knots, passed down from her father. It was a good gig- one that provided well for her. She enjoyed the company of her fellow able-bodied sailors and though her cut of the profits was miniscule at best, she never went without food and she had a place to stay. She was content.

Until her ship was captured by pirates.

The entire crew was executed in the chaos of defending their haul from the savages, who were notorious for being bloodthirsty and attacking any ship within their borders. Being small, young, and crafty, Santana continued her masquerade as a boy, and when she was discovered in the hull by the pirates, the Captain- known as "The Terror of the Seas" (yes, she rolled her eyes a little)- decided to spare her life, and she was granted the title of Cabin Boy on her new ship.

She couldn't believe her luck at having been allowed to live, and especially on board a pirate ship. The pay, while still small, was even better than the merchant ship she'd been on, and her rules were lax so long as she did her job. However, the Captain was worse than any pirate story she'd ever heard from her father, and more brutal than she'd heard snatches of from her former shipmates. He regularly keelhauled his enemies, which is part of what earned him his vicious reputation. Santana made extra sure she never did anything to cross him.

Perhaps the best thing to come out of being integrated with the pirates was her friendship with Puck, who was given his nickname after a prankster in a famous play due to his similar mischievous nature. He was only a few years older than her, and had served on a military ship as a Cabin Boy before it had been attacked and he'd been acquired, much in the same way she had been. He was the Powder Monkey of their pirate ship, and his job was to run gunpowder from the hull to the cannons during a fight. Being so much younger than the rest of the crew, they instantly bonded, and spent years together as friends serving on the pirate ship- until it came up against the _law._ The crew was mostly annihilated in the battle, leaving only a few aboard.

The Quartermaster, who was even more brutal than the Captain, somehow survived, and was next to take over the remains of the ship, but Santana and Puck were in agreement that they did not want that to happen. Together with a few other crew members, they mutinied and took control of what was left of the badly-damaged ship, ran a few easy cargo errands to earn money, and after a while, sold the parts and bought a new ship. They employed the crewmembers most loyal to them, acquired others, and now here they are.

Santana's been at Puck's side almost as long as she's been a pirate, and normally, she looks up to him- _likes_ him, even.

Except when he's being an idiot. Which is _usually_.

"I'm telling you, _Dia'-_ it's real," Puck insists, and Santana rolls her eyes, diverting her attention back down to the apple that she's carefully peeling with a knife. It's dark, but the moonlight and the small lamp they have on the poop deck nearby casts enough of a glow for her to see what she's doing. The water is calm and the weather is warm. She loves nights like this- she just hates that she has to spend this particular one listening to the ramblings of her addle-brained Captain.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?" she snaps. "It changes the meaning when you _shorten_ it-"

"As many times as I've ignored you," Puck says with a grin that infuriates her. She releases an exasperated breath, wipes her knife on her pants and tucks it back into her boot. "I'm not foolin' this time, though. This thing is real. I have it on good authority."

_"Hah,"_ she laughs. "On _whose_ authority?"

"If I tell you, you'll doubt me."

"Then I already call horseshit."

"Come on. I'm being serious."

"So am I."

_"Santana…"_

She huffs, taking a bite of her apple- she's rather fond of them, and it's rare she gets to have one- and rolling her eyes. "Even if I _believed_ you- which, I fucking don't- how in Hades are we going to get our hands on it? That map has got to be under serious lock and key; and suppose we _do_ get it? How the fuck do we even _read_ it? I doubt even Specs is capable of translating that bosh."

"Don't be such a croaker," Puck mumbles. "We'll figure it out as we go. We always d-"

"_SHIP, HO!_"

Santana sits up suddenly, her attention piqued as the lights around them on the ship are immediately doused, shrouding them in darkness. Her eyes catch Puck's and they share a knowing look, then quickly move to the gunwales at the edge of the upper deck. Lifting his small spyglass to his face, Puck scans the horizon, searching for the promised ship, and-

"Holy mother of sin, do you see what I see?" He demands, shoving the spyglass at Santana. She glares at him briefly before lifting it to her eye, but once she points it out at the dark horizon, there's no mistaking the sight that greets her. She grins.

"A _noble_ cargo ship… what could it _possibly_ be carrying, so late at night-"

"And so _alone?"_ Puck finishes with a wicked laugh.

She shoves the spyglass back at Puck and narrows her eyes. "Whatever it is, it must be extremely valuable. They take a great risk."

"Well then I think our duty here is clear, eh?"

Santana nods. "Aye. That ship won't even see us coming. Whatever they're carrying is _ours_."

* * *

**Oouu... what do you guys think Santana's gonna find on that ship? XD **

**Review if you feel like it! If not, it's okay, I'll catch you on the next voyage!**

_keelhauling_ is a form of punishment in which a person is dragged underneath the back of a ship (or the _keel),_ under the water, from one side of the ship to the other. It's especially painful because the barnacles and shit stuck to the bottom pretty much rip you open and then saltwater gets in there and you can't breathe and yikes. You dead.

_prince_ is used as its original rank/title (similar to Duke or Baron or whatever) and not as the son of a king (As in Prince Charming. XD)


	2. Black

**A/N:** Ohhhh hey there! Thanks for all the follows/favorites/reviews! :) I'm glad you guys are interested in the story! Haha hopefully it stays that way as the plot progresses. :O

I'd like to thank my boo bear, Dakota (**Perfectly Censored**) for helping me name things in this chapter, and for listening to me whine about describing clothing. Also, if you're not reading her story, **Strange Fruit**, you probably should be.

And in case you missed it, my darling Lighthouse (**NegativeSpaces**) updated **Find Me Another Life**, so you should definitely check that shit out, too, and show her some love. Woo!

Reminder that this story is **rated M**; there's some violence in this chapter. Because, uh. Pirates. :B

* * *

Brittany doesn't think she's ever been so excited in the entirety of her existence. It's only one more day's sailing time to Argo, and then she can start her new life- the new life she's been dreaming of ever since she'd learned the certain fate of her old life. She's heard all kinds of things about what Argo is like- that it's warm, that everyone there is kind, that the beaches are filled with white sand and tall tropical trees, and the waves are blue-green, clear and calm. She's heard that the natives are friendly and generous, and that land is plentiful. She should have no problem finding her place among the people there. She's never seen such a place before, but it must be absolutely wonderful, and she's been imagining it- the warmth, the bright sun, the cool water- for days. She can hardly sleep, and as she wanders about on the deck, inhaling the smell of the salty water around her and feeling the breeze whipping her hair, she taps her fingers excitedly against her thighs while she walks.

Around her, the crew lie in various states of half-sleep at their posts, ready to take up their rigging stations at a moment's notice. But the waters are calm and all is quiet, allowing the men to doze around her. So far, it's been a peaceful, uneventful voyage. One might even call it _boring_. Brittany's not sure whether she's thankful or upset that she hasn't had more of an adventure. After all, she's hardly experienced anything sensational in her life, and, truth be told, she'd much rather have a good story to share someday with her children, especially since there won't be many more opportunities for adventure in the future- she's going to be living a long, serene, free life on Argo.

However, all is as Sam promised. Their ship is making good time, and soon will arrive safely at their destination. So as Brittany reaches the edge of the deck and rests against the rail, she can't help but grin at the thought of her escape plan actually _working_. She had been so terrified the previous day that her father would catch wind of her getaway and send a ship to bring her back, and that Sam would be executed, and perhaps Sugar, too, for collaborating- but as she gazes out across the horizon, listening to the sound of the ship cutting through the dark waters, she can only feel relief. It is next to impossible that her father would deduce where she has gone. They were too silent, too swift in their execution, and they are days out. To him, they could have gone _anywhere_. She breathes easier- her father will _never_ find her.

"We'll be there soon," Sugar says from behind her, startling her out of her thoughts. She turns with a smile, which Sugar immediately gives back. "I know you can't sleep, Britt. Truthfully, I cannot, either."

Smiling bashfully, Brittany nods. "I'm entirely too excited," she admits.

"It's understandable. You're so close to starting over, to truly beginning your new life."

"_Our_ new life," Brittany corrects with a genuine smile. She gently places her hand atop Sugar's. "You're my best friend, Sugar. I wish freedom for you, and a place by my side- as my _equal_- in Argo. I cannot imagine having you anywhere but with me."

Sugar giggles deviously. "I do believe Captain Evans has other plans for you." She tilts her head and points, rather obviously, over her shoulder.

Brittany swallows, following the direction of Sugar's finger to see Sam standing on the forecastle- the upper front deck- watching her, his expression intense. It sends a shiver down her spine. His green eyes survey her every move, and he smiles with his large lips, waving slightly as their gazes meet.

"Creepy," she whispers to herself, waving back politely, and Sugar giggles. Brittany blushes as Sam continues to ogle her intently and she averts her gaze back to the dark water. Sam is nice. He's been a loyal servant and friend, but if she's being honest with herself, she's really not sure about anything else with him. Thankfully, she hadn't yet had to converse with him about the idea of them taking their relationship further. She's not quite sure how to broach the subject, or what to say to inform him she's not interested. He's rather stubborn and determined, and a little hard-headed, so-

A loud bell clangs from up high on the mast, scaring her out of her thoughts and making her tilt her head back to find the source. When the bell stops, a booming shout goes out.

"AVAST! Ship off the port side!"

Instantly the deck comes alive as soldiers jump to attention, scrambling to ready their positions and awaiting orders. The atmosphere is instantly charged with terse unease as the crew awaits the recognition of the approaching ship. Is it an ally? An enemy?

Brittany's stomach drops in fear. What if it's her father? What if he sent a ship? What if he's somehow found her, impossible as it may be? Oh, gods, what if he brings her _back_, and kills Sam and Sugar, and she's forced to marry that insufferable _boy, _only-

The deck falls still with an edgy silence as everyone strains to see into the distance, to see the vessel, to see a potential threat. Brittany stares hard, shaking slightly with anticipation. She chews her lip and squints, just barely making out the form of a ship approaching them- and _quickly_. Her stomach flips.

"By the gods, they're fast!" a man exclaims from behind her, and Brittany grips the cap rail tightly with both hands. She's scared- what if they are unable to outrun them? What if it _is_ her father?

What if it's _not_?

"It's okay, Britt," Sugar breathes beside her, but she doesn't sound so sure.

The silence around her is deafening. All she can hear is the sound of her own ship cutting the waves below, the wind in the sails, and her own rapid breaths. She watches the ship in the distance grow bigger as it draws nearer with incredible speed, her stomach twisting itself into knots; Sugar grabs her forearm tightly, her face paling, and now Brittany's _really_ scared. Her heart pounds in her chest, and she crosses her fingers that it's not something terrible- but who else would be swooping in on them in the middle of the-

"BLACK FLAG!"

"I see it!"

"PIRATES!"

Instantly the deck is a mess of people. Men rush up from the lower decks, roused from their cots, hastily-dressed and rushing to secure lines. Boots pound on wood as other soldiers ready themselves for battle. Canons are rapidly prepared by soldiers still groggy from sleep, and all the while, Captain Anderson shouts out orders to the scrambling men.

"Loose the top sail! Haul the bowlines! _Steady_, now!"

"It's too late, sir!" A man screams from high in the mast. "We'll never outrun them! They're too fast!" Brittany feels her stomach sink with nameless dread, though she has no idea what's happening. She feels panic overtaking her as the people around her succumb to it. It spreads through the crew like a fire, and their moves become wilder and clumsier as a result. The heavy, chaotic mood presses upon her, and she feels her terror rising with each moment the strange ship draws closer to their own. "They're upon us!"

A strong hand on her shoulder tears Brittany's gaze away from the pirate ship, and she turns to find Sam, his eyes wild with fear. "What's going on?" she asks shakily. "Are we to be seized?"

"Hide," Sam commands, his voice scratchy with alarm. He grabs Brittany's shoulders and stares hard into her eyes. Brittany feels a cold jolt of fear shoot down her spine at Sam's blatant fright. "_Hide_ yourself. Those savages will not show mercy. They do not follow civilized rules. If they get hold of you-"

"Oh, gods!" Sugar wails from beside her, already resigning herself to the worst possible scenario, and Brittany finds herself shivering, her stomach clenching so hard she feels nauseous. She'd hoped for adventure, but something a little more- _safe_, perhaps? Certainly not _this_-

"Where should I go?" she whimpers.

Sam studies her face for a moment, his expression wild and blank as he thinks. Finally, he releases her and swiftly begins to unbutton his uniform coat, his fingers shaking. "Go to my cabin," he orders as he finishes with the buttons and peels the thick garment from his shoulders. "I have a spare uniform there- don it. _Do not_ open the door for anyone. _Anyone_, Brittany-"

"And what about me?" Sugar demands, narrowing her eyes angrily.

"With me," Brittany says instantly. "You will hide-"

"Oh, _Britt_-"

But Sugar's moan of hopelessness is cut off by a distant boom, followed by a loud scream and the whistling sound of something flying through the air.

"CHAIN! LOOK OUT!"

The call comes seconds before the ship is rocked with the flying projectile, and Brittany gasps in horror as the foresail is shredded by the mystery round. The impact causes the fore mast to splinter, and Brittany watches, rendered still with horrified fascination.

"Furl the sails!" Anderson screams, and soldiers rush to obey, unfastening ropes and hauling them quickly.

"Go!" Sam hollers over his shoulder, rushing to help, and Brittany snaps out of her captivated stupor, grabbing Sugar's hand. Carefully tucking Sam's coat securely under her arm, she flees in the direction of Sam's cabin as instructed, located at the back of the ship. All around her on the main deck, soldiers are tugging on ropes, scrambling to gather up the sails to protect them from further damage as more projectiles rip into ropes, shatter beams and shred linens.

"FIRE!"

The first loud _BOOM_ of a cannon nearly startles Brittany off her feet. It's so _loud_. The ship sways, and more cannons go off, making her ears ring. Cold drops of ocean water spray her as enemy cannon rounds hit the water nearby. She can barely see through the haze of smoke in the air, and she stumbles blindly over a pile of coiled rope. Men shout things to each other across deck in between the booms of the cannons, but Brittany can't decipher any of it. She quickens her pace, desperate to follow Sam's instructions.

The loud, shrill whistle of an approaching projectile makes Brittany pause, and she spares one glance over the deck rail to see that the pirate ship is a mere few lengths away. She can almost see the distinguishing features of the crew, and the bright colors of their clothing-

The sound of cracking wood fills her ears as the cannon round smashes into the deck behind them, sending splinters flying in every direction. The shuddering impact causes the ship to lurch, throwing both of them from their feet. Brittany's palms hit the deck hard, and Sugar gives a small cry as she lands beside her, sprawled out.

Coughing on the smoke and inhaling the smell of gunpowder and burning wood, she reaches for Sugar's hand again, tugging her to her feet. She ducks to avoid any more flying debris, feeling tears springing to her eyes as she pulls Sugar along behind her, squeezing her hand tightly. She doesn't dare look back again as she finally reaches the entrance to Sam's cabin. She yanks the handle and the ship sways again, sending her teetering into the door, but she quickly regains her footing and slips inside.

Brittany's never been in Sam's quarters before, but she doesn't take much time to admire its spaciousness as she quickly finds the small dresser wedged against the far wall and tugs the drawers open, searching frantically for the spare uniform Sam had mentioned. Behind her, Sugar paces, practically wailing with fear as Brittany finally pulls spare trousers and a shirt from the wooden drawer.

"We're gonna die," Sugar whines. "We're completely dead. No one ever survives a pirate attack. I'm too young, I'm far too young to-"

"Hush, Sugar," Brittany chastises as she quickly tugs Sam's pants, which are a little too big, up her bare legs. "Help me with this."

"If we're lucky they will spare our lives," Sugar mumbles, loosening the laces on the back of Brittany's dress. "But we'll be prisoners, forced to do their bidding-" She helps lift the garment over Brittany's head, leaving the blonde standing in her chest wrap- she'd foregone the use of her corset since she'd abandoned her father's estate. "Rather we _were_ dead, if that happens!"

"Find me some braces," Brittany says, ignoring Sugar's dark ravings and hastily slipping the loose, white shirt on and buttoning it up clumsily. Sugar obeys, digging through Sam's drawers, and finally comes up with a pair of dark-colored braces, handing them over. Brittany looks at them for a moment, a little unsure how they go, but Sugar immediately steps in and begins fastening them to Brittany's pants, sliding the leather straps over her shoulders snugly.

The last thing on is Sam's heavy military coat. Once completely dressed, she examines herself quickly. She looks sloppy, but she hopes it will do. She's not worried for her hair- half the men on the ship sport similar styles, and truthfully, she hopes it might obscure her more feminine facial features.

"Lock the door," she mumbles in a tiny, scared voice, and Sugar moves to the heavy wooden door and secures it, dropping the lock-plank in place.

Then, with her heart pounding and her stomach still tying itself in knots, she douses the small oil lamp by the bed, taking Sugar's hand in hers.

And she waits.

* * *

Santana has never taken a ship so easily.

It's almost not even a challenge how fast Puck's ship- _The Tide Ripper_- overtakes the ship they're pursuing. She didn't bother to try and spot the name of it.

It'll be sinking soon enough.

So as the smaller dinghies they'd deployed earlier surround the much larger ship, cutting off its escape and slowing it down enough for _The Tide Ripper_ to sidle alongside it, Santana readies herself for disappointment. If the valuables they'd assumed were on board _actually were_ on board, surely the ship would be far better manned. But as it is, Santana's so bored with the lack of a challenge, she's almost certain there's nothing valuable on that ship.

Though she can't deny that the thrill of overtaking a ship, especially one of this size, isn't fun in and of itself.

"You ready, _Dia'_?" Puck asks with a grin.

"Don't call me that," she shoots back, pushing her bandana up over her mouth to help filter out the inhalation of cannon smoke and distort her face. Puck shrugs and slips a knife between his teeth, drawing his cutlass with one hand and gripping a rope, which he uses to swing himself across the gap between the two ships, with the other. He lands with steady feet on their opponents' deck and quickly takes out two soldiers with his sword. Once they drop, writhing and bleeding, to the deck, he turns to her.

"Come on!" He calls as he yanks his knife from his teeth with his now-free hand, and Santana sighs.

Rolling her eyes- she's almost certain Puck's going to cut his stupid mouth open someday- Santana crouches a little before sprinting across the deck and leaping gracefully over the rail. She lands, just as sure-footed, on the opposite deck and draws the short sword at the small of her back with a twisting flourish, dropping another soldier to the ground with a slice across his chest. She shakes her head. She doesn't even think she'll _need_ her second sword for this raid. Pity, really.

"Blower," Puck calls, but he's smiling. All around them, their fellow pirates are overtaking their prey ship, cutting down the soldiers with ease. It's almost pathetic. She gives Puck an uninterested look and Puck motions for her to follow him as he makes his way to the upper fore deck excitedly, expertly stepping over wreckage and debris and navigating through the trails of smoke.

She climbs the few stairs after him, and tails him as he reaches a staircase leading down to the inside of the ship. If there is anything valuable, it will be down there- in the hull. She sighs.

"AAAH!" a man screams as he attempts a surprise attack and tries to stab at Puck from the left, and almost tiredly, Puck cuts his throat in one deft motion, leaving him sputtering on the hard wood beneath his boots, clutching his bloody jugular. Santana shakes her head. The man has a few things to learn about ambushing- but she supposes it's entirely too late for that.

"Well?" she asks, and Puck tugs the eyepatch that had been resting on his forehead down to cover his right eye. He shoots her a boyish grin and Santana just knows something stupid is about to come out of his mouth-

"Let's go find our booty."

* * *

The sound of the cannons has stopped, and Brittany worries about what that might mean. She can hear shouting and the faintest clang of metal on metal, which she thinks is a result of the pirates boarding, but she has no idea what's going on outside of Sam's cabin. She has no idea if her side is _winning_.

She dares not look, though.

Instead, she sits in the dark, squeezing Sugar's hand almost painfully tight, and waits.

Sugar's shaking beside her, and though Brittany's scared, herself, she knows that she's in a better position. She at least looks somewhat like a boy- she'll probably be killed immediately. But Sugar might suffer a worse fate, and she's more scared for her than for herself. She doesn't want to die- but she also doesn't want anything bad to happen to her friend. She vows to do everything in her power to protect her.

"-in here-"

"Aye, the Captain's quarters."

"Bound to be _something_-"

Brittany freezes as she hears voices- just barely- outside the door. They're gruff and rugged-sounding, and she holds her breath as the door handle rattles. Beside her, Sugar whimpers in fear.

"Locked."

"Well ain't you a scholar. Step back."

The sound of something large hitting the door makes Brittany jump, and she watches, terrified, as bit by bit, the doorjamb is hacked away by what looks like a small axe. More and more light- from deck fires, Brittany assumes, since it's still nighttime (she thinks)- filters in from the hole, and she prepares herself for a very swift end as the hacking stops.

"Got it."

"'Course ya do."

The door crashes open, and framed in the doorway are two men. One of them is tall and lean; he wears ridiculously striped red-and-black knickers and his eyes are slanted. Brittany's never seen a man with slanted eyes before, and she almost can't stop staring enough to take in the other man, who is shorter but very solidly built. They enter the room, and Brittany freezes, hoping they will look over her in the dark-

No such luck.

It takes three seconds after the two pirates spot her for the larger one to cross the room, grab Brittany by the front of her coat and lift her from her feet. Her back hits the wall and instantly the cold metal of the small axe is firmly pressed to her throat.

"Well looky what we have here, eh, King?" The pirate growls, and Brittany swallows, cringing both at his foul breath and at the sharp metal at her neck. She stares down into his face, noticing a huge scar across his cheek. "The Cap'n _himself_." She feels warm blood trickle down her neck and wonders if she should struggle, or just accept her death gracefully-

Scar Cheek narrows his eyes. "What's ya doin' in 'ere, Cap? Bein' a lily-livered milksop?"

"Whoa, hold on-" the slanty-eyed man- _King_- says, grabbing the brute's shoulder and pulling him back slightly. Brittany releases a breath as the pressure on her throat lessens.

"I say we kill 'im," Scar Cheek says with a wicked smile, but King shakes his head.

"That's not the Captain of this ship. He's- someone _else_."

The burly pirate tightens his grip on Brittany and sneers. "He's a _goner's_ what he is."

Brittany does her best to glare back, trying to seem tough, but then Sugar shrieks as King grabs her wrist and yanks her out from behind the small armchair she'd been hiding behind. "Look at _this_, Scrap. A girl."

"Aye..." Scar Cheek, whose actual name is Scrap, agrees slowly, looking uninterested and also confused at King's logic.

"I bet my saw they're some kind of royalty."

Scrap drops her suddenly, and Brittany crumples to the floor with a low _uhf_. "Ya think?" He asks genuinely.

"There's only one way to be sure. We flag down Cap'."

* * *

Brittany stares hard at the sharp tip of the sword pointed at her face. She's terrified to meet the Pirate Captain, but considering she thought herself dead by now, she's trying to stay hopeful about the outcome. Beside her, Sugar is silently weeping, but Scrap doesn't look sympathetic. He scowls, glaring at them like they're ocean scum as he relights the oil lamp on the dresser, keeping one eye on her, though Brittany's not sure what she's supposed to be capable of considering her hands are bound tightly behind her back. Brittany sits, chewing her lip nervously, listening to the screams and sounds of the battle still raging outside, though it seems like it's mostly died down. And due to the calmness of her captor, she assumes the pirates have won.

She gulps.

It doesn't take long for King to return, and Brittany feels herself about to explode from anxiety as he enters the room, flanked by two more pirates.

The first one is a tall man, who she immediately assumes is the Captain. He's got a funny hairstyle- his head is completely shaved, with only a strip of longer hair on top, down the middle like a stripe- sports a gold earring, and wears a bright blue sash tied around his thick, black belt, adorned with a rather obnoxiously large buckle. He wears a half-open, white shirt underneath a long, black vest, an eyepatch, and a thick gold chain around his neck with an expensive-looking, engraved medallion attached to it. His walk is more like a swagger, and Brittany's pulse quickens a little with protectiveness as he regards Sugar appreciatively.

"Hey, _Guppy_- can you hurry the fuck up? We don't have all night."

Brittany's eyes snap to the biting voice- a distinctly _feminine_ biting voice- and her heart stops as she takes in the sight of the second pirate. A _female_ pirate. Her mouth drops open and she stares in awe. Not only is she female, but she's _beautiful_. Her wavy black hair is down, spilling over her shoulders, and she has smooth-looking, caramel-colored skin. Her lips are full, her brown eyes dark and cold as she stares down at her, and Brittany suddenly feels even more nervous. She lowers her eyes to the bright red bandana around the woman's neck; lower, and she notices that the woman is wearing a black, sleeveless bodice- Brittany swallows hard at the sight of the tops of her plump breasts and flat, toned stomach. She's never seen so much skin exposed before, and she's suddenly a little embarrassed. She drops her eyes to the red sash around the pirate's waist, her tight, black breeches and knee-high black boots, hoping the pirates don't notice her blushing in the low light.

"Dia'," The Captain whines. "You ruined my entrance."

"It's shit, anyways," Scrap points out.

Raucous laughter erupts, but Brittany's still staring at the woman. She's never heard of a female pirate before, and the thought of one existing had never even crossed her mind. She vaguely wonders if every female pirate is as beautiful as the one before her. The woman hasn't spoken since entering Sam's cabin, and she hasn't taken her eyes from Brittany; Brittany feels as if her chest is being torn open and exposed under such an intense gaze.

All she can do is stare, silently, as the other pirates argue. She's never felt attracted to someone before, but as she looks the other woman up and down, she feels an unfamiliar pull. And she has no idea what it means.

* * *

Santana is very familiar with the female form- she's had her fair share of ladies, though she's had to pay most of them for their company. She's not sure _when_ she decided she preferred their company over men's- though she suspects dealing with Puck's idiotic ways probably helped her realize it sooner than she might've without his constant presence in her life- but she's known for a while that she'd much rather spend her nights exploring another woman's body than a man's.

So as she stares down at the scrawny blonde at her feet, she can sense there's something _off_ about him. His eyes are too pretty, his jaw too clean. His form is too delicate, and even through the heavy navy coat he's wearing, Santana can see that he's thin for reasons beyond just meager offerings for supper.

"_This_ is the Captain?" Puck laughs beside her, finally taking the time to study the lithe person before them. He flips his eyepatch up to examine the boy with both eyes, and the blonde looks shocked as a result. She rolls her eyes at both of them, but doesn't say anything as Puck grabs his belt and continues to blow smoke up his own ass. "No wonder this ship fell so easy."

"Right coward, he is!" David agrees, pointing his sword at the twerp. "Hidin' in 'ere while his buds do battle for 'im."

"Oughta kill him," Puck snarls.

"No, wait," Mike says. He grabs at the sleeve of the boy's coat, pointing out an unfamiliar patch sewn into the collar. "See? He isn't a _sea_ Captain."

Santana glares as Puck and the others let out low exclamations of surprise, and the blonde bites his lip. She more than suspects that the boy in front of her is no _boy_ at all. She could, quite simply, disrobe the person and satisfy her curiosity- but she won't. She has no idea what's holding her back, though. Perhaps it's the innocent look in the piercing blue eyes that manages to make her pulse race and freeze at the same time; or maybe it's her own forced indifference over the entire operation they've begun. She's not exactly sure what's keeping her, and she tries to convince herself that she doesn't care. Those eyes won't stop looking at her, and it unnerves and angers her. It's a strange feeling. She tears her gaze away.

"-if he's not a sea Captain, then who in blue blazes is _that_?" Puck demands, pointing at the girl, who's stopped crying long enough to look terrified for her life- not that Santana blames her.

"Some type of royalty," Mike reasons. "Must be."

The word _royalty_ piques Puck's interest, as Santana knew it would, and she can almost hear his tiny brain taking flight with the possibilities as he says, "I wonder what price she'll fetch for her return, eh?"

"More than enough to fund your touched trip, I'd wager," Santana snaps, finally speaking up for the first time since entering.

"We take her, then," Puck says with a shrug, and Santana sighs, rolling her eyes again.

"No, wait," the boy says, his voice wobbling slightly before deepening considerably. Santana raises a disinterested eyebrow as he continues, "I am- _augh_!" He falls silent as David smacks him with the pommel of his sword, sending him collapsing back against the wall.

"Shut yer yap, boy," David grunts.

The blonde coughs. "But-"

"Brit-" the girl starts, before taking a long, unnecessary pause, "-ton. Britton. Don't. I'll be fine."

"I won't let you do this for me," the blonde pleads, sitting up straighter, and Santana watches the exchange suspiciously. She has no clue what's going on, but she knows what her instincts are telling her- and they're telling her _something_ fishy's happening.

"As if you have a choice," Puck barks, laughing. A loud pop and a hiss of fire from outside the door interrupt the moment, and all at once, they realize that they need to make a hasty exit.

"We're running out of time," Santana hisses. "Take them _both_. They'll fetch a higher price together, anyways."

"Good idea, Dia'," Puck says with a smirk. Santana casts him an unamused look while the girl struggles against David's grasp.

"No!" she cries, but David ignores her.

"Get up, Girly," he sneers, hauling her to her feet and shoving her in Mike's direction. Mike gently escorts her out of the cabin. David then grabs the _Captain_ and is decidedly less tender about it, even though the blonde puts up little resistance. He's bleeding and he's got a prominent lump on his temple from David's earlier blow; a dark bruise is beginning to form there. Santana watches with eyes narrowed in suspicion as David marches the lad roughly out the door, following in Mike's wake.

She's a master of deception due to her childhood. She'll find out who he is soon enough.

* * *

Her head is pounding. Her wrists are starting to develop rope burn. Some of her fingers are tingling due to the stiffness of the rope around her wrists, and her shoulders are aching from her tightly-bound position. She's not thrilled about being captured by pirates. She's terrified of the future- they could discover she's not a _boy_ at all. They could discover _she's_ actually the valuable one, and kill Sugar to be rid of her, or worse-

She suddenly wishes she had that chastity belt.

But at least she's still alive.

As she's marched roughly across the ship, she balks at the devastation and damage around her. Downed sails lie in tatters, shredded, across the deck. All three of the masts are cracked or fallen. Dead bodies litter the ship, sprawled in pools of blood. Some of them are still alive, twitching or writhing in pain. The smell of smoke, burning, and blood fills the air. Moans of pain echo across the space, and Brittany feels tears filling her eyes. All these soldiers died because they were escorting her from her father's estate.

They'll never make it to Argo.

Scrap shoves her on the head, and she pitches forward, stumbling a little. "Quit gawkin' an' keep walkin'," he growls, and Brittany wonders offhandedly if pirates go to rhyme school-

And then she spots him.

Sam.

He's on his knees, his hands tied behind his back. He looks awful- it makes Brittany cringe. Blood drips from the corner of his mouth, his blonde hair is matted to his head, and his clothes are ripped and covered in blood- she hopes it's not his own.

Their eyes meet, and Sam jerks as if hit. He attempts to lunge to his feet, but one of the pirates lays a heavy hand on his shoulder.

"No!" he shouts, and Brittany halts, feeling as if she should do something, as if she should reassure him, or talk to the pirates, try to negotiate, or-

Scrap shoves her forward, and the moment is broken. Grabbing her elbow, he guides her forcefully to the edge of the deck, where several bound planks have been laid across the top of the railings of the two ships, making a temporary bridge.

Brittany can't resist, but she can still hear Sam screaming behind her. She throws a wild look over her shoulder, hoping to reassure him somehow with her eyes-

The woman pirate- Dia', what the Captain called her- blocks most of her vision. She can just barely make out Sam behind her; Dia is turned away from her, and Brittany can see the sheaths of two short, curved swords on her- one at the small of her back, and one at her right shoulder. The woman waves her hand lazily, and the pirate at her side lunges forward, and even over the cacophony of other sounds, Brittany can hear the loud _thwack_ of his fist hitting Sam's jaw- _hard_.

Sam collapses to the deck, and Brittany is dragged away. She struggles to watch, but Sam doesn't get up. Dia' turns, flanked by the Captain, and they both coolly walk to the plank bridge, smirking.

Brittany wants to shout- to say something- but she's not sure she can do that without sounding like herself, and she can't afford to give away her gender. Not now that she's seen what her captors are capable of. She wants to scream at Sam to _get up_, but-

A cloth is pressed firmly to her mouth and nose. Arms wrap around her neck. She panics. Something smells sweet- well, all right, it's not so bad. Her eyelids feel heavy. So do her limbs. Maybe she should lie down.

She sags against the person holding her up, and the last thing she's aware of before everything fades to black is a large, lit torch being tossed onto her former ship- causing the downed sails to ignite- and Sugar sobbing,

"You _savages_!"

* * *

**Muh muh muh soooo cheesy! XD **

**Whatever, you love the cheese. **

**Anyways… what did you guys think happened to Sam? Think he's dead? ;)**

**Wellllll I guess you'll have to keep reading to find out! **

** Review if you feel like it! But if not, then don't. **

* * *

**/**

In other news, I'd like to address my dear Anon who pointed out my lack of creativity for the premise of this story:

Up until you said that, I was not even aware of another Brittana pirate story existing, other than JuJu (_mykindofparty_)'s recent one-shot, _Voyage of the Red Devil_. (read it!)

So I did some research, and I discovered that there are THREE other stories that have a similar premise as mine, and two others that are just general pirate stories. All of them haven't been updated in like, a year though, and are unfinished, so I think it's fair that I use it, right? After all, great minds think alike! ;)

Besides, as you will come to find out, the backstory is not even the main point of the story. XD

In any case, for those of you who want to check out some other Brittana pirate stories, they are:

_Satan's Secret_ by Brittana1775

_In the Arms of An Enemy_ by Angelscry217

_My Heart Lies With the Sea_ by littlemusical

_You Saved Me_ by Crimson Joy

_It Takes an Ocean_ by SinfulPerfection

I haven't read any of them (I don't want them to influence the plot I already have), and I believe most of them are unfinished/abandoned, but there they are for those of you who'd like to read them! :) Maybe some kind words will inspire the authors to write again, who knows?

See you next time, pals! :D


	3. Cargo

**A/N:** Hello again, everyone. Sorry for the delay on this chapter; my 60 hour work week magically transformed into an 80-hour work week- kind of like how the Power Rangers' zords all connect together to form the Megazord, and actually, no, it's not like that at all, just kidding.

Anyways, what was I saying? Right- I didn't have a lot of time to type up this chapter the past few days, BUT. Here it is! I had a lot more I wanted to cover, but _surprise_, it was getting too long so I split it. Story of my life, tbh.

The good news is, that means the next chapter should be out faster. The bad news is… well, I suppose there's not really any bad news? :D?

Thanks to everyone who read/reviewed/followed/called me out on/whatever'd the last chapter, you guys are great. :) Also I'd like to thank my boo bear, Dakota (**Perfectly Censored**) for once again helping me name things and being a pretty good Wall and just generally all-around awesome. And if you haven't read her story, **Strange Fruit**, you probably should if you like things that devastate your life. What else should you read? **NEVER TOUCH THE GROUND**, by **get-higher.** Which is my new favorite fic, I know, I know, I'm late to the party, whatever, I'm here, right? :P

Anyways. I'll shut up now. Thanks again for reading! Enjoy~

* * *

Brittany wakes up suddenly, feeling groggy and disoriented. The first thing she is aware of as her senses come back to her is the smells around her. The overwhelming scent of damp wood, humid, stale air, and dried salt flood her nose, and she cringes at the slight sting. When she opens her eyes, her sight is blurry. It takes a second for her to adjust, but once her vision focuses, she can see she's in a dark, cramped room. Her left temple is throbbing with pain, and the rest of her head is pounding with a dull ache. Her shoulders are stiff and sore, her back is aching, and upon attempting to move, she realizes she's bound to a wooden post.

She adjusts as best she can, sitting up straighter to find a comfortable position. She shifts her legs- her left foot begins tingling with a prickling sensation as the feeling returns to it- and she looks around. Jammed into the far right corner of the room are several wooden barrels. She vaguely wonders what they might contain, but gives up after a moment. It's not like she can go look, and she'll probably drive herself crazy with curiosity about them if she focuses on them for too long. Instead, she slides her eyes around the rest of the room. There's not much else in it- just some stacks of coiled rope. On her left, a narrow ladder leads up through a square hole in the ceiling to the deck above her. If she strains she can just barely make out the sound of footsteps on wood far over her head. There's a low creaking and a slight swaying that informs Brittany that the ship is moving-

But to where?

And how long had she been asleep?

She tries to remember anything about where she might be, or what time of day it is. She knows she's still with the pirates- her clothes seem untouched and- hopefully- her father wouldn't have her tied to a post if she was in _his_ care. When her stomach growls loudly, interrupting her thoughts, she realizes it must be past breakfast, and all at once, she feels ravenous. Her meals aboard Anderson's ship, _Courage_, weren't the most appetizing, but they still satisfied her hunger- though not her craving for sweets- and at least came at regular intervals.

She doubts, though, that she'll be treated to such a commodity as food during her captivity. Her stomach growls again, and she winces. She half-wonders if anyone even remembers where she is. The very real fear that she could die, tied to a post in the dark, alone, makes her pulse spike with dread, and she looks around wildly. Should she call for help? Who would even help her?

She immediately thinks of Sam and feels sick. Is he dead? Did he wake up in time? Did he burn, along with the _Courage_? Did he escape somehow, or was he too badly injured to swim, and drowned at sea?

The realization that she might never find out Sam's fate sets uneasily with her, but she tries to block it out. She has other things to focus on. She has to make it out of her own predicament, first.

She swallows, pushing down her feeling of panic and taking a few deep, calming breaths. Someone will come, eventually. They have to. She is to be traded, along with Sugar, to her father. It's not the most desirable outcome, but at least she'll still have her life. She can think of an alternative exit plan for her and Sugar later- perhaps once she's settled with Prince Rory. She will be out of danger soon.

Her thoughts relax her, keeping her anxiety at bay, and she feels suddenly exhausted, mentally and physically. She reassures herself again that everything will be all right, and, settling down against her hard, unforgiving wooden post, she closes her eyes and drifts back into darkness.

* * *

When Brittany wakes up again, it's because she feels as if she's suffocating. She's entirely too warm and something soft and furry is perched on her face. Her eyes snap open, and all she sees is gray.

Then the thing on her face _moves_.

Giving a small yelp, she scrambles up into a sitting position, wondering how she fell asleep in such an awkward way. She regrets it instantly as her neck, back, and right side all scream in pain as she moves. Suddenly remembering why she woke up, she looks around and spots two shining eyes in the darkness. She swallows with fear, wondering what kind of animal would be on board a ship that isn't a rat, and then the creature speaks, answering her question as it steps closer.

"_Mow_."

Surprised to see a cat- and such a _large_ cat- on a ship full of ruthless pirates, she watches as the furball waddles right up to her, seemingly unaware of any danger. Though, Brittany supposes, she can't really harm the feline even if she wanted, since her hands are currently bound.

"Are you here to keep me company?" she asks as the cat curls up next to her thigh, purring lightly. She wishes she could stroke her fingers through his soft fur. At least- she assumes it's a _him_. His warmth against her leg, even through her breeches, is comforting, and she doesn't feel so alone. His purring grows louder, and Brittany smiles, watching as his eyes wink shut several times before closing. She feels calmer, less lonely, with another living, breathing thing's presence in the room.

"Are you a prisoner, too?" she wonders out loud, but the cat's only answer is to continue purring by her side. Brittany doesn't mind, though. "Probably not. You at least get fed." She pauses, staring down at his plump body. "I wonder how many other prisoners you've met; you seem awfully friendly."

The cat purrs some more. His tail flicks contentedly.

Brittany smiles, admiring the black stripes on his back. She thinks he must be a stowaway. What kind of fearsome pirates keep a cat on their ship? Unless it's some kind of demon pirate cat- Brittany imagines how he would look with an eyepatch- but he seems too sweet and docile for that to be true. A fugitive, then. Maybe he had a bad run-in with a gang of thug cats. Maybe he's an outlaw, and he was drawn to more of his kind, fleeing for killing a mouse, or-

"Do you think they'll kill me?" Brittany blurts, her voice wobbling. She doesn't want to die. But what if the pirates break their deal? What if they only give Sugar up, mistaking her for Brittany?

"_Mow_," the cat answers.

It's not very reassuring.

Light footsteps above her head draw her attention, and she straightens up, listening carefully. They grow louder as they approach, and Brittany's stomach twists with anxiety. She's terrified of all of the pirates, but if she had to choose, she hopes it's Dia'. At least she likes to look at her, and she feels inexplicably drawn to her for some absurd reason. Perhaps it's because she admires her, or maybe because she's curious about the existence of a female pirate. Whatever it is, she wants to see her, but as the approaching pirate descends the ladder, expertly shuffling a small, covered lantern as he climbs, her heart sinks when she realizes it's someone she hasn't seen before.

He's tall, with fair skin and brown hair swept up and to the side in a kind of wave. Brittany wonders if he modeled it after the ocean. He wears a slim, bright purple headband, and has one lone gold earring in his right ear. He's sharply dressed, but Brittany can't pinpoint exactly why that is. He's wearing black-and-white striped knickers and a common, black long-sleeved poet shirt. Around his waist is a sash that matches his headband. He carries no weapons that Brittany can easily discern, and she breathes a sigh of relief.

Her breath catches his attention, and their eyes meet. The first thing Brittany thinks is that he's very _pretty_.

"Oh, you're awake," he says, and his voice is soft and disarming. It puts her at ease. She watches him as he sets the lantern down, reaching into a leather pouch by his side. She tenses, anticipating a knife, but then he pulls out a hunk of what looks like salted meat. Brittany licks her lips, very aware of her growling stomach.

The man is, too. He shoots her a pitying look, shaking his head. "Sorry, this isn't for you," he tells her, crouching. Instantly, the cat at her side shoots to his feet and pads over to investigate. The man holds the chunk of meat out to the cat, who sniffs it delicately, and then takes the offered morsel. Brittany listens jealously to the sound of his little cat teeth chewing his food, and sighs. She debates speaking, but she's worried about revealing herself. She hasn't exactly practiced sounding like a man, and she's not sure she can pull it off for extended periods of time.

She watches the young man stroke the cat's back, and then, once he's satisfied the cat ate his meal, he straightens to his feet, regarding her carefully.

Brittany decides to speak, intentionally deepening her voice as much as possible. "Where am I?"

The man stares at her for a moment before answering with part amusement and part boredom. "Aboard the Tide Ripper: Bane of Man, Teeth of the Sea, Destroyer of Worlds..." He rolls his eyes as he recites the long, rambling title.

Brittany's eyes widen, both at the news of her location, and by how well-spoken the young man before her is. She wonders if he was royalty in a previous life. She wonders at everything about him. But she has a more pressing question: "How long have I been asleep?"

He shrugs. "A few hours. No more than half a day."

Her stomach rumbles again, and she cringes as a sharp pain hits her. "When shall I be fed?"

The man laughs. "I'll be bringing something around for you this evening. Sit tight until then."

Brittany nods in response, wondering if the man is making a joke, considering she can't exactly do anything other than _sit tight_. She has at least a hundred more questions, but the man stoops to collect his lantern, and before she can think of words to halt him, he makes his way back up the ladder.

The sound of his footsteps grows fainter and she sighs. The cat sits in front of her, daintily licking his paws, and then his chops. Brittany shakes her head. "Must be nice," she mutters, her stomach clenching again with hunger.

The cat blinks at her, and Brittany's shoulders droop. "Okay, I'm sorry. I'm just jealous, all right? I'm not used to going without meals." As if in understanding, the cat waddles back over to her, curling up in her lap. He begins purring again immediately.

Brittany closes her eyes again, ignoring the way her body aches _everywhere_. She really can't do much else, and she supposes talking to a cat isn't so conducive to her mental health, so she concentrates on the sound of his tiny little breaths, and lets them lull her into fitful sleep.

* * *

"Wake up."

The voice is soft, and Brittany's eyes open to find the young man from earlier, crouched near her, shaking her gently. He releases her shoulder and studies her with sympathy as she straightens up from her slumped position, cringing as she goes. When she's as comfortable as she can be given her bound state, she looks expectantly at the pirate.

"What's your name?"

He ignores her, instead reaching into his satchel once more. He pulls out some stale-looking crackers and one shriveled, tiny hunk of salted meat, which looks considerably less appetizing than the slab he fed the cat hours before. Brittany blinks, miffed.

He's not serious, is he? He doesn't actually expect her to eat less appealing food than a _cat_, does he?

"I'm to be in charge of you until the exchange," the man explains softly, moving closer and expertly untying her bonds, "so no funny business. I may not look it, but I'll gut you in half a second if you make any attempt to escape. Are we clear?"

Brittany nods quickly, and as the ropes finally come undone and she's released from the post, she practically sighs in relief as she's able to move her arms. She rubs at her wrists, which are sore and stinging from the burn of the hemp sliding against her skin, and rolls her shoulders, hearing an audible pop. Her muscles are still sore, but she feels immensely better at the relief from her earlier position.

"Here," the man says, thrusting the crackers and meat chunk towards her, and it becomes clear, that, yes, he expects her to eat the unpalatable food. She takes it gingerly, noticing how soft his hands are for a pirate as her fingers brush up against his. Doesn't he work with ropes all day long? How is his skin so smooth?

She doesn't wonder for long, though, as she immediately tears into the small, shriveled piece of meat. She's surprised by how tender it is, considering it looked more than unappetizing, but she doesn't really care so much as she devours it. Next she eyes the crackers. Brittany's never eaten hardtack before, but she'd seen many of the sailors on the _Courage_ with various forms of the dry biscuit. She nibbles on it hesitantly. It kind of tastes how she'd imagined sand to taste, with only a slight salty hint to it; but again, her stomach isn't protesting as she swallows it quickly.

Once her meager meal is over, and her mouth is parched from the hardtack, the pirate offers her a sip from a small, metal flask. Relieved to have a drink, Brittany immediately takes a huge gulp-

And promptly comes up hacking as the alcohol burns her throat. Brittany's also never had any kind of spirits before, barring a very mild version of wine. She glares at the man before her, who chuckles into his hand slightly. Could he not have warned her?

"You're awfully green for a sailor," he comments slyly, and Brittany freezes as he hands her the rest of the hardtack he's brought. She swallows, still tasting the bitterness of the alcohol in her mouth, and shrugs, dropping her eyes to her lap.

"I just took a bigger sip than I intended," she answers, keeping her voice low and gruff.

"Of course," the pirate says, and Brittany can hear in his tone that he doesn't believe her, not for a second. She takes a hesitant bite of her cracker, suddenly feeling very worried that he might suspect her secret, and if he knows, he'll tell the Captain, won't he? And Dia'…

"What's your name?" Brittany asks again, looking up, and the man seems as if he debates with himself for a moment before answering.

"Call me Pegasus."

"Pegasus?" Brittany asks, surprised. It's literally the last name she expected. Don't all pirates have fierce names? Clearly, she's been misinformed.

"Yes," Pegasus says firmly, and Brittany interprets through his tone that he doesn't want to talk about it. She licks her lips. She has a million questions, but she knows he won't answer all of them. She'll have to prioritize.

"You mentioned an exchange," Brittany points out slowly. "Do you know what is to happen to me?"

Pegasus nods. "Well, we are about another day's sailing time from our home. With any luck, the messenger we've sent to Lycas will return with news of your lord's compliance with our demands, and you and your lady will be exchanged at the designated time and place." He shrugs nonchalantly. "A very simple transaction, if all goes well."

Brittany's stomach tenses as she realizes that the pirates were so easily able to discern where she's from. She wonders if they know the area well- though, when she was first taken from the _Courage_, they didn't recognize the patch on Sam's coat- only that it represented that she was of a high social standing. She worries that maybe they somehow coerced the information from Sugar.

Her thoughts race as she finishes her hardtack, and refuses another sip of spirits. "Thank you," she tells Pegasus genuinely. He's the first person aboard the _Tide Ripper_ to show her kindness.

"_Mow_."

Well, besides the cat. The fat blob of fur looks up at her from her lap, and she pets him, finally able to feel the softness of his pelt. It's even softer than she'd imagined.

"Well, hello, Lord," Pegasus says softly. "I don't have any more food for you."

Lord, the cat, doesn't seem upset at the lack of food- instead he settles down next to Brittany's thigh and begins purring immediately. It's silent for a moment, and then Pegasus slowly gathers up the ropes he'd taken from Brittany's wrists. Reluctantly, Brittany offers her hands to him, who begins tying her up once again.

"Lord likes you," Pegasus points out as he works.

"Why do you keep a cat?" Brittany asks in response, staring down at Lord.

Pegasus pulls back as he finishes with her bonds, and Brittany notes with slight relief that they're looser than they were. Her shoulders still scream at her, but it's not nearly as unbearable. Pegasus stands, lifting up his lantern.

"For the rats, of course," he answers finally, turning and making his way to the ladder. "I'll see you again in the morn, when we reach our destination."

Brittany's left sitting in the dark with her thoughts, contemplating Pegasus's words. She eyes Lord, still curled up by her leg. He's a very large cat.

There must have been a _lot_ of rats.

* * *

"I'm tellin' you, Arty- this is the big one; we get that map, and we can _retire_," Puck says enthusiastically. Santana tries not to roll her eyes from her spot a few feet away as she whittles idly at a block of wood. She _was_ enjoying her time on deck, sitting on a huge pile of rigging, her feet propped up on a nearby crate, inhaling the smell of the sea- but Puck always seems to interrupt her when she's in her quiet place.

"Woah, woah- wait just a minute," Arty says, pushing his glasses up his nose. "Does this place even really exist?"

"It does." Puck nods firmly, and Santana laughs.

Arty looks justifiably doubtful. "And how do you _know_?"

"He doesn't," Santana answers carelessly, unable to contain her eye roll this time. Arty blinks at her and Puck glares.

"I _do_," he insists. "I have a source- a very _reliable_ source- that _assures_ me-"

"What source?"

"That's- not important." Puck fidgets. "But listen-"

Shaking her head, Santana tunes them out as they continue to talk about _The Big One_, as Puck has taken to calling their next score. She focuses instead on the small block in her hand, trying to discern some kind of shape from the motions of her hands. She'd never been particularly skilled at carving, but it's good stress relief, and, based on her company standing a few paces away, she has a _lot_ of stress to relieve.

She doesn't actually believe the map Puck's been talking about since he'd learned of its supposed existence from his _very reliable_ _source_ is even real. And even if it _is_ real, she doubts it's actually attainable. But who is she to argue? She doesn't truly care whether it's real or not. When they get to the map's supposed location and Puck's made out to be a fool, she'll get her satisfaction. She smirks at the thought. He's in for a big surprise, dragging them halfway across the world for a _map_- but honestly, it's not like she has anything better to do, and even if she did, she still would rather be right where she is: feeling the cool caress of the sea breeze, smelling the salt from the water, listening to the sound of the waves lapping against the hull of the ship. If there's a place better than this, she hasn't found it yet. So if she _must_ accompany Puck on another of his hare-brained adventures, well, that's just fine with her. _Funding_ the trip, however-

Her mind turns to their captives, and the presumed money they will acquire for their return- _if_ they are who they expect. The girl acts snooty enough to be of noble descent, that's for certain. But the boy-

Santana's almost a thousand percent sure that the boy is a girl in disguise. But why? Is she masquerading as a boy simply to be a sailor, like Santana herself did when she was a child? Did she actually attain Captain status, or is she pretending to be so? Did her crew know, as Santana's does, of her true gender? No- if they did, she would not be pretending at all.

She thinks harder. Perhaps she's the other girl's _lover_- that would explain the hiding, and why they were found together in the cabin. Santana's stomach clenches with unease at the thought of the two together, though she can't place why. She shakes her head slowly, staring down at her knife as it strips away shreds of wood. The block still hasn't taken on any sort of recognizable form, and combined with her thoughts, she quickly grows frustrated. Carving is supposed to _calm_ her-

Santana takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. She will figure out the imposter's intentions just as soon as they make land.

"We can't _fail_," Puck's insistent voice cuts back into her thoughts and she stares over at her Captain, who is still trying to convince Arty of his case. "We just need that map."

"_If_ it even exists, and _if_ it's where you think. And how do we fund such a trip? The Kingdom of Lao is far, and-"

"SHIP, HO!"

Santana sits up, dropping her feet to the deck. She listens carefully for the second call, determining the nature of the spotted ship. She's not worried about pursuers from the ship they'd sunk, but-

"BLOOD SIREN!"

Santana rolls her eyes, letting out an annoyed huff. _Grand_. She leans back into her rigging, readjusting herself, and props her booted feet back up on the crate. She can hear Puck cursing, and she glances over at him- their eyes meet and they exchange an exasperated look before they settle in and wait, tensely, for the_ Blood Siren_ to sidle up to them.

She watches disinterestedly as the other ship quickly pulls up alongside theirs, and heavy mooring ropes get thrown onto her deck. Then, two young girls- Santana forgets their names (or, more likely, doesn't care to remember them)- leap over and begin securing the ropes to the _Tide Ripper's_ bitt posts, anchoring the two ships together. A plank is laid across the two rails, and then, looking like a large feline climbing down from a throne, Quinn- _The Lioness-_ struts onto their ship, flanked by her Quartermaster, a sturdy black woman who goes by _The Mistress of Hell_. (Santana doesn't know her real name, and she doesn't really care to.)

"Well, pay no mind, Q, just come right aboard," Santana says flatly, and Quinn waves her hand in a shooing motion.

"Stop sulking, Santana," the blonde says sweetly, her pleasant voice belying the vicious bitch Santana knows rests within. Santana glares at her for a moment,

"Why are you here?" she asks, staring back down at her wooden block with feigned apathy.

Puck hops down from the fore deck with a flourish, making his way to Quinn's side and boasting, "Yes, what brings you aboard the _Tide Ripper,_ Bane of Man, Teeth of the-"

"Oh, _do_ spare me that long, asinine drivel," Quinn pleads with a roll of her hazel eyes. Puck snaps his mouth shut, his pride wounded. He kicks his boot at the deck and Santana sighs heavily, setting down her block- but keeping her knife in hand. Just in case.

"You still didn't answer my question," she growls, pointing the knife at Quinn.

Quinn rolls her eyes again, sighing. "I just wanted to see for myself what you deemed _so_ important to attain that you set a blazing _torch_ out in the _middle of the sea_- that's all."

Puck grins and puffs his chest up proudly. "Boss, right?" He puts his hands on his hips and Santana watches, horrified at his spectacle of idiocy. "I must admit, I'm surprised- word of my bossness sure travelled fast."

"You are an extraordinarily balled up buffoon," Quinn says, her voice dripping with pity as she shakes her head slowly. "That was a _Lycan_ ship, and now you've gone and set it ablaze; are you trying to bring the entire fleet of Lycas down on you?"

"Pssh," Puck scoffs, waving his hand dismissively. "They won't even know who done it; we were in and out of there like lightning, and anything left of that ship now rests at the bottom of the sea."

"You'd do well to lay low for a while, regardless," Quinn huffs, before giving Puck a meaningful look. "If you start a bout, you _know_ which side I will support." Puck nods bitterly, and then Quinn's expression brightens, almost as if hitting a switch. (Sometimes Santana wonders if Quinn's as batshit crazy as the rumors claim.) She smiles as she asks, "So- what did you pillage? Any prized valuables?" and Santana rolls her eyes. _Of course_ that's why she came.

"Aye- we got the entirety of their cargo," Puck brags with a nod, and Santana's anger builds slowly. Why's he being such an idiot? "A few crates of coffee, all the money for their travel… we also got a little extra more than we expected, but you won't hear me complain."

"What do you mean?" Quinn demands suspiciously, and Puck's teasing smile is enough to make Santana lose her patience.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," she snaps, crossing her arms. "The Duke's daughter was aboard the ship and she's now in our possession."

"Are you touched in the head?" Quinn hisses, staring at them with an incredulous expression on her face. Switch flipped. "You might as well light your own ship on fire so they can find you!"

"Relax, Q, we'll take care of them," Puck assures. "We're meeting them near Alti Isle, where we have full advantage. If they send more than one ship, we'll leave. They can't outsail us. We're the fastest ship in these here waters-"

"Except mine," Quinn points out with a nonchalant shrug.

"Right," Santana agrees sarcastically.

"Right," Puck agrees, with far more enthusiasm. "We're on to something big, Q- really big-"

Quinn barks out a harsh laugh. "As if I've never heard _that_ before." Her lips turn up into a devious smile and she eyes Puck predatorily. "So you've copped the Duke's daughter, eh? I have to admit, I'm curious."

"That's bad for your health, Q," Santana snaps. "Curiosity killed the cat."

"Back down, lass," _Missy_ says, speaking up for the first time and glaring, and Santana offers her a sardonic smile, twirling her knife challengingly. Missy's eyes narrow, and her hand drifts to the hilt of her curved sword-

"She's just a girl," Puck interrupts, trying to dispel the tension. "Got quite a mouth on her, though."

"She'd probably fit right in with your crew," Santana says casually with a smirk, continuing to twirl her knife.

Quinn glares, but Puck, ever eager to win Quinn's affections, says, "I'll take you to her, if you'd like."

"Yes, it's not like you've never seen a girl before," Santana mutters, slipping her knife back into her boot and finally rising to her feet to reluctantly follow Puck, Quinn, and Missy down to the hold. Puck shoots her a glare but she meets his irate expression with one of her own. She knows Puck just wants to show off- he and Quinn have a weird history and even weirder present relationship, but she doesn't have the energy to argue or get involved with their business. If Puck wants to brag about stealing away some wealthy brat, then she won't stop him. And she can't deny that they need Quinn on their side, rather than against them. As terrible as the idea may be.

When they reach the hold where the Lycan girl- who has refused to give them her name- is being kept, Santana watches Quinn warily as the blonde takes in the sight of her, sprawled delicately in her plain clothes against a pile of rope.

"Well, it's about time," the annoying girl snaps. "I'm _starving_. What kind of people are you? I demand my supper _immediately_, and-"

"Why is she dressed like that?" Quinn interrupts, staring down at the girl at her feet.

"We ambushed them," Puck explains. "Think we caught her and her guard in the midst of something, if you catch my drift. Judging by how they're dressed." He wiggles his eyebrows impudently.

"That's a disgusting accusation," the Lycan girl grumbles. "And I'm still _hungry_-"

"Is she your only captive?" Quinn asks, raising a curious, delicate eyebrow and tuning the girl out as she continues to complain. "You mentioned a guard. Did you bring him, too?"

"Yeah. I'll show you."

Puck turns, leading Quinn back up the stairs, and Santana narrows her eyes, trying to figure out what Quinn is planning. She can't for the life of her discern why the blonde pirate would care about what captives they have- unless she wants to take them for herself, which isn't a new concept. She lets her hand drift to the hilt of the sword at the small of her back, reassuring herself. She doesn't want to have to take on _The Lioness_ and her crew- she's almost sure that they are outmatched. Quinn has a wicked, heartless reputation for being ruthless, and her ship is armed enough to support that status. She knows it's why Puck is so willing to do her bidding.

It's also why she won't shoot her mouth off.

When they reach the small room where they are keeping their other prisoner, Puck holds the light out, and Santana's eyes meet blue ones again for the first time in two days, sending a tiny shiver down her spine. She swallows. If he's a boy, he's a very _pretty_ one. But Santana knows better- boys don't have eyes like the sky.

"Here he is," Puck mumbles, and Quinn stares at the blonde Captain with an unreadable expression.

Santana looks at Quinn's face for any reaction- she wonders if Quinn knows what she, herself more than suspects- that the Captain is no _boy_ at all- but Quinn gives nothing away. Instead, she turns, and her hazel eyes meet Santana's. After an intense, uncomfortable moment, she smirks.

"Well it seems you have everything under control- though _sloppily_," Quinn says, waving a lazy hand as she inspects the rest of the room. She pauses as she catches sight of the several large wooden barrels in the far corner of the room, and her eyes narrow, a smirk coming to her lips. Santana clenches her jaw. "Are those the barrels you lifted?"

Puck nods and cautiously leads Quinn and her bodyguard away to show them the contents of the barrels, leaving Santana where she stands, towering over the person at her feet. Santana takes a moment- free from would-be judgmental eyes- to study her captive. She observes the long blonde hair, shiny and soft-looking. She imagines how it would feel around her fingers, clenched in her fist- she bites her lip, scanning lower, examining delicate features, and each inch of flawless skin she finds convinces her more and more that there's no way the person at her feet is male. She is _beautiful_, despite the dark, ugly bruise that's formed on her temple from David's strike from days earlier, that she can clearly see even with the shadows of the lamp obscuring her features. Santana's anger spikes momentarily at the memory, but she appeases the oncoming, irrational rage as she notes that the swelling has gone down, at least- and then she mentally scolds herself right after, shoving away her beginning feelings of sympathy quickly, her mask of indifference slipping back into place. She shouldn't care so much about this fragile girl.

She shouldn't have sympathy for her.

Even if they have similar backgrounds, pity won't help her. Her heart gives a pang at the thought of the girl before her ever having to endure the hardships she has had to deal with in life, and she takes a deep, steady breath.

Maybe she does feel just a bit of sympathy-

Blue eyes rise from where they'd been looking at her chest- was she just checking out her _breasts_?- and lock with her own again. The pure color and depth make Santana feel like she's the captive one, and for the first time, she feels unsteady on her feet with the familiar swaying of the ship.

When the girl unconsciously licks her lips, Santana can't stop herself- she immediately wonders what they taste like, imagines biting into her lower lip, and sucking on it viciously, swallowing the girl's moan- and a throb of desire hits her so hard she sucks in a sharp breath.

Their eyes meet again once she tears her gaze from the girl's pink lips, and Santana feels as if a flow of energy passes between them; the blonde shifts helplessly at her feet, her slim thighs tensing visibly even under loose uniform pants, and Santana is overcome with a heady feeling, resulting from the power and control she holds in her current position. She wants to-

"If you're quite done, _Ira Del Diablo_," Quinn sneers, snapping her out of her trance, and she turns to glare at the bitchier, though admittedly still attractive, blonde. She nods, at least grateful that Quinn used her code name in the presence of an outsider; but as she stares at the still-smirking Captain, she wonders just what is processing in that psychotic mind of hers, and tries to ignore the fact that she was just caught staring. She can still feel the heat of a blue-eyed stare flooding through her, and she stays silent, not trusting her voice as first Quinn, then Missy, climbs up the ladder.

Puck slips next to her, keeping his voice out of Quinn's earshot as he whispers, "Not too bad- only one barrel of coffee."

"You're a fucking _ninny_," she hisses, outraged. "If you keep submitting to her-"

"You think I like paying her off?" Puck growls in response. "You _know_ we have to. The Rozzers love her; they'll look the other way if she annihilates us, or worse, turns us in. If we want to stay in business, we _have_ to pay her."

Santana huffs, shaking her head, and Puck smiles genuinely, poking her in the ribs. She squirms. "C'mon Dia', don't be like that- it's only until we make this big score,"

"-_if_ we make the big score-"

"- and then we're _done_. We retire with more wealth than we know what to do with."

"Right," She grumbles. "You'd just better be on to something."

"I am. I promise. Have I ever been wrong?"

Santana rolls her eyes. "You mean besides all of those times-"

"Is y'all comin' or is your legs broke?" Missy calls down from the next deck up, and Santana gives Puck a look of truce, but conveys through her expression that they aren't done talking about his so-called _Big One_. She internally shakes her head at herself for making it sound so- _carnal_. Gross.

She and Puck climb up to the main deck just in time to see Quinn's two younger minions hustling aboard, passing them and making their way down to the hold where they'd just come from, no doubt hurrying to fetch Quinn's haggled-for goods. Not that Puck really put up much of a resistance. She lets her breath out slowly, reminding herself that they need Quinn on their side.

Once the barrel is being hauled across to the _Blood Siren_, Quinn's cheerful, taunting voice calls over, "Noah, _do_ get in touch when you find that score you're looking for, hmm? I'd love to see what your incredible talents manage to uncover." Her ship pulls away with a sudden lurch, and Quinn's loud laugh, followed by the laughter of her crew, carry across the space as she exits.

And Santana just sends a sheepish Puck a murderous glare.

* * *

Santana's in her quarters after having told Puck off and threating him about his ridiculous plan and how _it had better be the real thing_. She reclines on her soft, quite comfortable bed, her thoughts racing wildly. She's confused and irritated, and no closer to figuring out the source of her frustration than she was before Quinn's visit. She supposes she should be cross over Quinn's visit, or Puck and his idiocy, but truthfully, she can't stop thinking about the way a pink, lower lip looked, pulled between white teeth, and she sighs, running over the entire encounter in her mind.

She wonders what Quinn knows- because Quinn must know _something_- and worries about what that might mean for them. She also balks at the idea that she is in any way intrigued by her blonde captive. There's no reason for her to be. Blue eyes, while admittedly stunning, shouldn't make her mouth as dry as they do. The sight of a velvet pink tongue shouldn't make her pulse race as much as it does. And certainly, imagining the breathy moans she could coax from a creamy throat shouldn't make her stomach tighten-

She growls in frustration, covering her face with her hands. She _can't_ be this intrigued by a silly damsel- it's unheard of. Perhaps if she satiates her desire, she will cease acting so absurdly- it has been a while, after all, since she's released her _tension_. She could, quite simply, go further belowdecks, satisfy herself, and leave, and no one would be the wiser- not that _that_ was a factor in the slightest. The thought of taking the innocent blonde by force makes her pulse pound. Something in blue eyes scares her- but she has to be rid of this incessant, edgy _pull_. It's not lucrative.

Just when she's resigned herself to such a drastic, instantly gratifying solution, however, there's a knock at the door. She calls- rather grumpily- for the person to enter, and is surprised when the door swings open a crack and Kurt pokes his head in.

Annoyed at his appearance which is ultimately delaying her departure and consequently, her satisfaction, she thinks hard on why he would pester her to begin with and sulks. "What? Did he refuse to eat again?"

Kurt looks at her, unamused as he enters the room, closing the door gently behind him. "I fed Lord _hours_ ago, Santana."

Santana waves her hand impatiently. "What is it, then? Don't tell me he's _dead_-"

"_He's_ not who you think he is."

The implication in Kurt's words makes her pause, and suddenly the heaviness of it settles on her. She raises an eyebrow. "What?"

"He is actually a _she_," Kurt says slowly.

She hesitates, then finally relents to reveal what she suspects, slightly surprised that Kurt drew the same conclusion. "I know that," she mutters. "I just don't know _why_." Another pause as she contemplates Kurt's findings. "How did _you_ know?" Her stomach twists at the idea of her revealing herself to him, but she shoves the feeling away.

_Unheard of._

Kurt grins slyly. "I _know_ what a man looks like, just as you surely know what a lady looks like."

Santana glares, crossing her arms over her chest. So he doesn't _know_. "Fair enough. But that still doesn't solve why _she's_ masquerading as a boy."

"Why don't you ask her?" he says with a shrug. Then, his smirk turns wicked as he adds, "She's awfully friendly, Santana."

Brown eyes narrow. "What are you implying?"

"That she won't bite." He shrugs again.

"Oh yeah?" Santana challenges. "Well, maybe I will."

It takes her exactly two seconds and the sight of Kurt's smirk growing wider for her to realize what she's said. He raises his eyebrows meaningfully and she huffs, exasperated, "You know what I meant."

Nodding, he chuckles a little. "I did- but did _you_?"

"Quiet," she mumbles, thinking on the plan she had decided on not even ten minutes prior to her conversation and how it somehow aligns with Kurt's assumptions. She feels all of her resolve drain out of her, leaving her worried about how Kurt knows her so well. She swallows, avoiding his eyes. Is she that predictable? "Is that all you came to tell me?"

"Yeah. I'll take my leave now. We're only a night's out from shore." He turns and slips out, leaving her with her thoughts. Kurt, who's spent the most time with the captive girl, backs her gender as female. It makes Santana certain that her gut feeling is correct.

Now all she requires is confirmation.

She settles back against her bed again, staring up at the ceiling and releasing a calming breath. She smiles to herself.

They'll make landfall in the morning, and nothing will stop her from having her answers.

* * *

**Whew! Well. Not a lot of Brittana interaction- _yet-_ but don't worry. Next chapter they get to have a proper (or improper, hehehe) conversation, so stay tuned! ;)**

**Or don't. It's your choice, haha. **

**The lady pirate that Quinn is (loosely) based off of is actually a real, badass lady pirate: Jeanne de Clisson. And she was known as **_**The Lionness of Brittany**_**. Never not lol'ing about that, tho. Of course, I turned up the crazy to fit Quinn, so they are drastically different, but in case any of you were curious... ~now you know. You'll definitely be seeing a lot more of Q throughout the story. **

**Review if it pleases you, but if not, that's okay, I'll hear from you next time! **

**See you soon, pals! **

* * *

And now a ~word from our sponsors:

It's come to my attention that my story is similar (I guess?) to _Pirates of the Caribbean_; and while I've never seen any of those movies, I WILL say that a lot of pirate lore that I will be covering is pretty much covered in every pirate thing ever because there are certain things/tropes/whatevers that are just associated with pirates.

In any case, I am not ripping off _Pirates of the Caribbean_.

However, here is a list of the things I AM ripping off, lolololol:

_The Goonies_, _Sinbad: Legend of the Seven Seas_, _Pocahontas_, _Aladdin and the King of Thieves_, _Avatar: The Last Airbender_, _Treasure Planet_, that one episode of _Xena_ where she was on a pirate ship (_The Lost Mariner_), random mythology, actual pirate people that existed, every sea song by _The Decemberists_ and the video game series _Uncharted_.

All of them have influenced me to write this fic; so basically, what I'm trying to say here is- every pirate story has pirates in it. It's how you handle those pirates that makes it different. And special. Awww~

And that's all she wrote! (read: I wrote.)

Thanks for reading, regardless! :D


	4. Captivity

**A/N: **GOOD LORD. Sorry this took forever! My computer did this cute thing where it decided not to boot anymore, so I basically typed out THIS ENTIRE CHAPTER on my iPhone! DON'T EVER SAY I DIDN'T GIVE YOU ANYTHING. :P

Anyways! I have a lot of stories coming up next month, including -drumroll please- a weeklong SOLSTICE OF SMUT! (**SOLOSMU** for you tag-inclined people.) Seven smut-tacular stories are coming your way in mid-December, right before me and my previous team of authors do a little Holiday project for ya'll. So. Stay tuned!

I'd like to once again thank Dakota (**Perfectly Censored**) for helping name things and for listening to me whine about my computer problems. She's the greatest!

Okay so have fun with this chapter my dears! Sorry again for the wait. :*

"Get up."

Brittany wakes to a boot nudging her thigh, feeling completely ill-rested despite having slept through the night- she _thinks_. It's impossible to tell what time it is in her current location belowdecks. For all she knows, it could very well still be dark outside. She may have slept for hours or minutes, she can't be sure. She suspects her tied-up position helped contribute to her state of weariness, as well; it's been impossible for her to get comfortable since her capture days prior.

As she blearily opens her eyes, she's greeted with the sight of Dia', standing over her in all her glory, looking better than Brittany remembers. Brittany barely contains a soft moan at how good she looks in her tight outfit, the lights of the nearby lamp flicking shadows over her dark features. She hadn't been able to stop picturing her since she'd left the previous night, and waking up to her is a pleasant surprise, though Brittany's unsure as to why she's happy to see her. Dia' is a ruthless pirate, and Brittany has no reason to believe otherwise- but as she scans her eyes down the pirate's lean form, taking in the tense, defined muscles in her bare stomach and the way her breeches ride low on her hips, Brittany finds that she, surprisingly, doesn't feel fear. In fact, she feels _warm_, and something else, something unfamiliar to her-

"Give us trouble, and I'll slit your throat," Dia' says calmly. "But you're not gonna give us any trouble- are you?" Her voice ends almost in a purr, and Brittany swallows and nods slowly, a little mesmerized by the way Dia's lips move, by the way they form words.

Pegasus steps forward, and Brittany's suddenly aware of his presence in the room, though it's still a struggle to tear her eyes away from staring at the lady pirate before her. She reluctantly averts her gaze to her lap, feeling pink sprouting across her cheeks as Pegasus unties her hands from the post and then helps her into a standing position. Brittany wobbles slightly, having not used her legs for the past few days for any reason except to relieve herself- which had been awkward enough with Pegasus in the room, even though his back had been turned.

She stands, enjoying the stretch of her muscles after being cramped up, and once she feels steady on her legs, she looks at Pegasus.

"Climb," he says sternly, inclining his head towards the ladder leading to deck above them. "Don't get any ideas."

Silently, Brittany obeys his instructions, moving to the slender ladder and carefully fitting her feet to the rungs. She climbs gingerly, very aware of the two sets of eyes watching her, and once she pulls herself up to the next deck, she waits for her two captors. Pegasus reaches her side quickly and gestures to another ladder. "Keep climbing."

Brittany nods and climbs the next ladder, and the next, surprised by two things- first, that she had been stored so far below the main deck, and second, that the _Tide Ripper_ was big enough to house so many decks. It hadn't looked larger than the _Courage _when she had spied it during the attack.

When she reaches the deck just below the main one, which is evident by the lack of ladder (in its place is a staircase) and the beams of morning sunlight pouring in, Pegasus tells her to stop. Brittany pauses, waiting for instructions from Pegasus, who looks expectantly at Dia'; the woman, who'd been standing a few paces behind her, nods in response, then reaches up and tugs the red bandana from around her head. Then, Dia' steps forward, and Brittany sucks in a breath as she moves to stand closely behind her and secures the fabric around her eyes, obscuring her vision. Dia's fingers are warm where they touch her skin, and Brittany is hyper-aware of all the places they brush against her; she's assaulted by the woman's scent, which is a mixture of cannon smoke and a strong spice Brittany doesn't know the name of, but she knows she's smelled before. She can feel body heat emanating from the woman, and Brittany's first instinct is to move closer, but she resists.

Soft, strong fingers grab at her sore wrists, and Brittany bites her lip at the conflicting sting of pressure against her burns and the soothing sparks of Dia's hands on her skin as she fastens Brittany's bonds once more. The ropes are tighter than they have been for days, and Brittany withholds her sound of pain as the ache in her shoulders reminds her of its existence. She tries to ignore it, focusing instead on the presence behind her and not on the rawness of her wrists.

When Dia' finally pulls away, her scent lingers; Brittany can smell it on the scrap of cloth tied around her eyes. She stands, trying to find her bearings now that her vision is gone, inhaling the scent of the pirate woman. She doesn't get long to revel in it or adjust to her new state of being before she feels Pegasus- whose hands touch her entirely differently- grab her by her elbow and guide her, not unkindly, up the stairs. He murmurs warnings to her about the steps, helping her climb them, and as she emerges from the dank darkness of the lower deck, getting her first breath of fresh air in days, she can't help but sigh. She can feel the heat of the rising sun on her face, tempered by the cool of the breeze from the sea, and all of her aching pains disappear to the background of her mind. She's truly happy to be alive, and-

"Don't stand there _struck_," Dia' snaps, "keep walking."

And there went her good mood. _She's still a captive. _She follows Pegasus's instructions to walk forward and eventually she's being jostled along and guided into sitting down. She hears people shouting- the surface beneath her feet shifts- and then, the hard plank she's sitting on rocks and the entire seat is being lifted into the air. She panics slightly- aren't boats supposed to be lowered to the water _before_ sailors load into them?- but tries to reassure herself that if it wasn't safe, Pegasus wouldn't put her in it- she _hopes_-

The boat lowers gradually, jerkily, making Brittany grit her teeth as her body sways, and then it hits the water with a splash, the impact jarring her and sending her almost sprawling face-first from her seat. She still can't see, and her arms are still tied tightly behind her back, so she spreads her feet wide to steady herself. More shouts surround her, and then the boat rocks as pirates climb down from the ship and settle around her. She feels a hand on her thigh, and Pegasus whispers, "It's okay. We're heading to shore, now; we just can't allow you to know the location of our _top-secret lair." _His joke makes Brittany feel a little better, soothed by his comforting words.

After a few minutes of traveling over the choppy waves, the small boat slows, and Pegasus helps her to her feet, then escorts her out of it. Her boots splash in water as she steps over the side of the vessel, but she doesn't have time to worry about the invading liquid as three steps later she's trudging through loose, shifty sand. Brittany wonders what it looks like- what color it is, and what kind of foliage surrounds her on what is surely a beach- but she sadly resigns herself to never knowing as Pegasus leads her for what seems like forever up the dunes, her feet sinking slightly into the ground with each step.

As she walks, she can feel various leaves and small branches brushing her arms, so she assumes she's moving through some type of jungle or forest, or at least something with trees. Eventually, Pegasus warns her lowly to watch her step, and the sand beneath her feet gives way to stone- she can hear her boots scuff on it. Several more steps in and she senses the absence of sunlight, and combined with the way the air turns suddenly still and humid clues her in to the fact that she must be indoors.

Pegasus leaves her side for a moment, and she stands nervously, unsure of what's happening or even where she is. Her ears perk as she hears a loud squeaking, like a rusted gate being opened, and her stomach sinks. She ponders her new destination as her pirate escort guides her a few more steps, and after a moment, her bonds are tugged loose.

When her hands are free, she reaches up to remove her blindfold and she's met with the sight of _bars_. Thick, metal bars. She sighs.

She's in a cage.

The clinking of the gate closing prompts her to look, and Pegasus offers her a soft, regretful smile as he turns a key in the lock, creating a soft clank which echoes in the room.

"You'll be here until we get word of the exchange, so make yourself comfortable," he says. "I'll be bringing your evening meal around later." Brittany nods to show she's heard him, and he leaves, exiting through an open archway on the right.

Completely alone, Brittany takes a moment to survey her surroundings. Her cage is rather roomy, and she tries to think positive. Being able to walk and move around is infinitely better than being tied to a post. There's a sconce on the wall outside her cage which gives a dim light, so at least she's not in total darkness. It's damp, and the walls are made out of stone, giving the impression that she's encaged in a cave or a dungeon, though she doesn't remember traveling below ground. It's humid and she's already sweating, even having only been imprisoned for less than five minutes. The heavy coat she's wearing does nothing to aid in cooling herself, but she dares not take it off. She can't risk being discovered, and the coat helps hide her figure. She'll just have to sweat it out for a few days. At least she's _alive_.

She glances around her cage to see what amenities are afforded to her, and is not impressed. There's a small, decrepit cot shoved into the corner that doesn't look comfortable by any stretch of the imagination, but it's still more appealing than her previous sleeping arrangements.

Sighing, she walks slowly to the cot and sits down. It squeaks and wobbles, but she doesn't care. She's so very tired. She hopes Sugar has been better provided for than her.

Brittany brushes some hair from her face, grateful for the use of her hands. For the first time she's able to inspect the bruise on her temple, and she hisses at the sharp sting of pain from even the slightest touch upon it. A tentative inspection of her neck reveals trickles of dried blood, which flakes off as her fingers brush over the cut at her throat. It doesn't hurt, but she hopes she will get the opportunity to clean herself up soon. She feels filthy, and she hates it.

Brittany looks up, snapping out of her thoughts as she hears the sound of boots tapping lightly on stone, signifying that someone's entering the room. Her eyes dart to the broad archway and widen in surprise when they find Dia', who's in a different outfit than the last time Brittany saw her. She's still wearing similar breeches- tight black ones that show off the shape of her thighs- but her shirt is a loose, white, long-sleeved poet shirt. The neckline plummets between her ample breasts, and the laces dangle freely against her chest. Brittany's mesmerized by smooth-looking, tan skin, but she snaps out of her funk as she hears the door to her cage being unlocked.

She scrambles to her feet, listening to the sound of the key clanking in the lock, and then the door opens, creaking as it goes. Brittany opens her mouth to say something- to greet the lady pirate, to question her of her presence, maybe- but before any words can escape her mouth, Dia' lunges, lightning quick, slamming her against the wall. Her back hits hard, unforgiving stone and before she can blink, she feels cold metal against her neck for the second time in under a week.

Dia's eyes are dark and burning, her right hand grabbing a fistful of Brittany's borrowed uniform's collar, and Brittany swallows. She can't help but be assaulted by the woman's scent again. Her smell is different- less smoky, more clean-

"Will you not even defend yourself?" Dia' hisses, pressing harder into Brittany's body. "You are masquerading as a _Captain_. At least make an attempt to fulfill your disguise, for fuck's sake."

Brittany freezes; her thoughts race, and she panics. _How does Dia' know the truth_? Brittany searches her mind, wondering if she'd slipped, if she should confess- but no. She has to protect Sugar. There's no way Dia' knows the truth. She can't possibly know for _sure_- her best bet is to bluff. "What are you talking about?" She says gruffly, but her voice wavers. If she fails-

"Cut the shit," Dia' snaps. "You're a _woman_. Now tell me who you are or I swear to you-" she drops her voice to a deadly growl, "I'll gut you where you stand."

Brittany tries to process Dia's words, but she's overwhelmed by the way the pirate's entire body is pressed fully against her, so firmly she can feel her chest move with her breaths. Her clean smell, her warmth, her softness-

"I- my name is Britton, Captain of the Lycan Royal Guard," she stutters, scared- but she can't tell if she's more scared of dying, or having her secret discovered. Which fate is worse? _Death_, or-

In response to Brittany's words, Dia' adjusts her hold, her right hand releasing the collar of Brittany's coat and slipping down, down- Brittany shivers, realizing she must be reaching for her sword, or some other weapon to give her a swift end-

She gasps in surprise when Dia's hand pushes down and forward between her legs, roughly grabbing the loose fabric of her breeches. She tugs it harshly, yanking Brittany's hips forward by the crotch of her pants, as if to prove she has nothing there.

Brittany bites her lip, partly because she knows she's been caught, and partly because never in her life has she had someone else's hand that close to her intimate place. Dia's not touching her sex, but her hand is so close it makes Brittany's heart pound. The lady pirate expertly presses the flat of her knife further into her skin, angling it just so as to not draw blood, but still increases the pressure. Brittany swallows thickly.

"Do you think me some kind of fool?" Dia' seethes. "I could easily disrobe you _myself_ and discover the truth. _Do not _force me." The pirate glares at her, brown eyes burning into Brittany's blue ones, for another moment before releasing her hold completely.

Lowering her knife but keeping it pointed in Brittany's direction, she steps back, shoving Brittany one last time as she does.

"Now- _once_ more. Who are you?"

Brittany swallows again, trying to force away her fear. She's bombarded by a myriad of emotions that are battling within her and she's not sure she can find her voice- so, with shaking fingers, she does the only thing she can think of in her stressed state of mind to prove she is, in fact, a woman- she unbuttons Sam's coat, trying not to notice the way darkened brown eyes watch her intently.

Once she's unfastened it, she slips the heavy garment from her shoulders, letting it drop heavily at her feet and leaving her standing in Sam's loose button-up shirt. Dia' openly stares at her chest as if looking upon her favorite meal, and it makes Brittany feel as if she swallowed a cup of sand. Or perhaps more hardtack-

Averting her eyes to her trembling hands as she reaches for the buttons on her shirt, her breathing picks up at the idea that she is about to expose herself to someone for the first time, and it's not at all how she'd imagined it to be-

Warm, tan hands still her hands' movements, and she looks up, surprised to find Dia' staring darkly at her, an unreadable expression on her face. It sends a hard throb of unfamiliar excitement straight between her legs, and her stomach flutters. She's not sure if she wants to throw up or faint. She feels a blush rising up her neck, and she clears her throat uneasily.

"I am a woman," she says, using her own soft voice. "My name is Brittany."

"Why are you dressed as a man?" Dia' demands, her voice sounding rougher, and it sends another small tingle down Brittany's spine.

"My Captain-" Brittany starts, feeling a sharp pang of sadness for Sam's fate, "-feared for my safety, and ordered me to disguise myself." She pauses, unsure if she should tell more, but she still fears for Sugar's life, so she decides withholding her title and importance is probably best. Better they think she is a peasant.

Dia' still looks skeptical, but thankfully doesn't push further. She shakes her head disgustedly. "You did a lousy job," she mutters as she turns away.

"What is your name?" Brittany asks, because surely it can't be _Dia_'. She waits, hopeful and expectant, as the pirate pauses in her departure. She turns to give Brittany one last disdainful look over her shoulder, ignoring her question, before she strides out, leaving Brittany standing awkwardly in her cell, wondering what caused Dia's abrupt exit and trying not to feel hurt at her refusal to submit her name.

It takes a second for her to realize her cage door is wide open, but before she can react, Pegasus comes in swiftly and locks the gate, giving her an apologetic look. She freezes in fear, very aware that her coat is still off and her shirt does little to hide her feminine figure. She suddenly worries that he could hurt her now that he knows her form, that his decency could be an act- after all, he is with a band of ruthless pirates, isn't he? Their eyes meet- his are _kind_- and they reach a silent understanding as he offers her a soft smile, relaxing her. Then he turns and leaves silently, and Brittany's left standing, even more confused and terrified about what's going to happen to her than before. She sinks back down into her cot, but she fears her tumultuous thoughts will afford her no better rest than her time aboard the _Tide Ripper._

She might as well be tied to a post.

Santana's furious.

She doesn't even know why she's so angry- after all, she was proven right; the boy is actually a girl in disguise, and doing a piss-poor job of it. Perhaps that's why she's angry- that the girl made such a godawful effort to conceal her appearance, discrediting all girls in disguise, everywhere. Santana shakes her head at how ridiculous it sounds even in her head, as if she cares about the credibility of girls in disguise. But still- she can't deny that the girl's disguise was clearly poorly executed.

Perhaps that's why she's mad- at _herself_, for not recognizing immediately that she was a girl; for playing the guessing game for days and not knowing for _certain_. She should have. She's too smart, too experienced not to have known.

She thinks back to innocent blue eyes and clenches her jaw. _Brittany_ should have been more careful. Had she been caught by a ship other than the _Tide Ripper_, she certainly would have endured a fate far worse than the one she's currently facing- and maybe that's what's making her angry. That she could have been seriously _hurt_- and Santana actually _cares_.

She cares about a silly girl she's barely met with universe eyes and lips she wants to suck-

She slams her fist against the rough stone wall as she stomps through the tunnel leading to the exit, regretting it immediately as the side of her palm stings with pain. She storms out of the entrance to the large cave they use solely as a prison, noticing that the sun has gone down. The sun bleeds orange into the sky, and Santana quickens her pace, eager to get back to her room and enjoy the rest of her night- on _land_. She loves the sea, and the bed in her cabin is as comfortable as money can buy- but there's something to be said about security and stability.

She doesn't make it ten paces from the jail when Matt approaches her, and already she can tell she's not going to be happy with what he has to say.

He nods respectfully at her. "Master Santana," he says, and Santana can't help but roll her eyes. He's always addressed her formally, even though they've known each other for years.

"Let me guess- Captain Idiot sent you," she says, crossing her arms.

Matt nods again. "Puck requests your presence, ma'am. Seems he's eager to set sail again." Santana's stomach sinks at the thought of shipping out again so soon. They'd _just_ gotten home this morning. And Puck wants to leave again, the dolt.

"Whereabouts?" She asks as they walk quickly. Santana wants to get her discussion with Puck the hell over with as soon as possible. Maybe, depending on the destination, she might convince him to go without her.

Slim chance, but-

"Perdic," Matt answers, and Santana releases her breath in a huff. _Of course _Puck wants to go to the island of Perdic. It's crawling with merchants, and they just lifted a tiny fortune in spices. It's not a long trip, perhaps a mere day and a half's sailing time each way, but it's still more time away from her home- and her comfy, comfy bed.

She enters the main doors of their fortress, which more closely resembles an old, small castle. They'd found the structure while exploring the uncharted island, and quickly claimed it as their base of operations. It's sturdy and impossible to sneak up on- not that they were worried about a possible attack. They were usually far too clever and thorough to leave themselves open for retaliation.

Once inside, she strides into the main hall, her blazing eyes immediately searching for her target. She finds Puck talking to Jake, the _Tide Ripper's_ swabby who's also Puck's younger, half-brother, and when he spots her, he smiles and waves the kid away.

"Ah, Santana- just who I wanted to-"

"Can we not waste time? What do you want?" She snaps.

"Jeez, someone's in a bad mood," he mumbles. Santana looks at him impatiently, and he continues, "We are to sail to Perdic. I'm eager to exchange the goods we acquired, if only to get a decent estimate of how much we still need to acquire to fund our trip to Lao."

Santana nods. "Excellent. Have a safe trip, if you do not return in-"

"Hold fast, Santana, don't get ahead of yourself; you are to accompany me."

"I appreciate the request, Puck, but I am actually rather busy."

"Doing what? Ogling our captive girl?" He wiggles his eyebrows and Santana freezes at his accusation. How does Puck know Brittany is a female? And how does he know Santana's been ogling her? She thought she'd been so _careful_- "I admit she is attractive, but with that mouth of hers, she is nearly intolerable to be around. Perhaps _you_ can _shut her up_," he jokes suggestively, and Santana glares, internally relieved that he's not referring to Brittany, which means both of their secrets are safe.

"You are an imbecile," she says dryly, shaking her head in amazement.

Puck smirks. "Get changed and prepare for departure. We leave at nightfall aboard the _Sea Guillotine._" He waves her off and wanders away to make more preparations.  
Santana sighs angrily.

So much for her peaceful night.

Brittany had just lulled herself into half-sleep when Pegasus enters, smiling knowingly at her. She sits up as he approaches, blinking groggily. She has no idea what time it is but she knows she hasn't slept, and that her stomach is rumbling- which means it must be dinner time.

"So... _Brittany_," Pegasus says slyly, and Brittany blushes in response, ducking her head and reaching up to tuck some loose strands of blonde hair behind her ear.

"Yeah," she mutters, feeling sheepish.

"I've brought your meal," Pegasus explains, holding up a small package wrapped in brown cloth. Brittany nods, curious as to what her ration for the night is. She stands, moving to the bars to graciously accept her food as Pegasus continues speaking.

"We are still waiting on our messenger to return. It'll probably be another few days at least before we hear word," he says, handing her the package through the bars. Her stomach grumbles at the thought of food, and she nods at the pirate's words, and what they mean; another few days of being a captive. She wonders about Sugar, considering she has heard no news of her, nor caught a single glimpse to determine whether she lives, but she's unsure if she is allowed to ask questions. She's worried she might give herself away if she speaks too much- she's never been good with her words.

"I'll return in the morning to check on you," Pegasus says, interrupting her thoughts, and he leaves without any preamble.

Brittany watches him go before focusing her attention on the small package still clutched in her hands. She settles on the cool stone floor and carefully unwraps it from the cloth, a little surprised when she finds several slices of warm bread, a hunk of white cheese, and a cluster of red grapes.

She can't believe her eyes for a moment, and she wastes no time in quickly consuming her meal, impressed at the flavor in the bread and the smooth creaminess of the cheese. The grapes are surprisingly sweet and she revels in her first taste of fruit in over a week.

When she's finished, she realizes that not only is she ravenously thirsty, but she has nothing to do. She wishes she hadn't eaten so quickly.

She crawls back onto her cot and curls up on her side, ignoring the way part of the frame stabs her ribs. She closes her eyes. She's in better condition than she was, but still nowhere near the treatment she's used to. She swallows, her mouth feeling dry. She hopes Pegasus brings her some water in the morning. She hopes the pirates' messenger returns soon. The one good thing that will come from her exchange will be the return to having companionship again.

All her solitude is really, really boring.

She's awake when Pegasus finally returns in the morning, but as he approaches carrying a large wooden bowl, she's surprised; normally she doesn't get a morning meal.

"I get breakfast today?" She asks incredulously.

He nods, shooting her an encouraging smile as he shoves the bowl carefully through the bars, tilting it but keeping his hand atop it so as not to spill its contents. Brittany takes the bowl and glances down at the items inside, her stomach growling in anticipation. Some oval-shaped, exotic fruit sits in the bowl, along with more bread, this time with a fried egg on it. The egg is cold, but Brittany doesn't care. She can't remember the last time she's eaten an egg.

"Rations are limited on a ship," Pegasus tells her. "But not here." Brittany pauses, unsure how to go about eating her breakfast without utensils, but then she decides she doesn't care as she lifts the bread to her mouth and takes a large bite.

She chews slowly, grateful once again for the variety of flavors after eating nothing but bland crackers and salted meat for days.

Pegasus slips a large flask through the bars and at her questioning eyebrow, he laughs. "It's water," he assures her.

She smiles and untwists the cap, swallowing in large gulps. She can't remember water ever tasting so good. Pegasus stands silently, watching her eat, and she feels awkward from the silence that settles over them. She decides to risk speaking.

"May I ask you something?" She starts hesitantly, tearing at a piece of crust on her bread.

"Of course," Pegasus answers with a nod.

Brittany swallows. "My companion- is she well?"

"Weller than you," The pirate chuckles. "Though still raising hell."

Brittany smiles, relieved at the knowledge that Sugar is alive and unharmed. She continues to eat silently, content and unwilling to press her luck by asking more questions.

Pegasus watches her for a moment more before he takes his leave, promising to come back soon to collect her bowl and flask, and Brittany sits in utter boredom once he leaves, waiting for any news.

Brittany spends another day in solitude, her only company when Pegasus visits her for her meals. She's curious as to what Dia' is doing, and the lady pirate has drifted in and out of Brittany's thoughts since the last time she'd seen her. Brittany still has the woman's bandana, and sometimes when she feels lonely she pulls out the scrap of cloth and the smell of it comforts her somehow.

She hasn't quite reached the level of boredom that would warrant her talking to it yet; but sometimes she gets so bored she half-wishes she was back on the _Tide Ripper,_ because at least she'd have Lord to talk to.

Pegasus is really the only person keeping her from going insane with boredom. He's patient and kind to her, and he genuinely listens to her when she tells him things. It makes her wonder how he ever got to where he is; she's come up with all sorts of backstories for him, but she's curious to know his story, and the next morning, she can't hold in her curiosity any longer.

"Why are you so nice?" Brittany blurts as Pegasus hands her her breakfast.

"What do you mean?" He asks, cocking an eyebrow.

"You're a pirate," Brittany starts slowly, as if explaining.

"I'm also human," he says quietly, with an understanding smile. "And so are _they_. We aren't as savage as you think."

"Perhaps; but you're the only one who's treated me with any shred of decency."

Pegasus laughs. "I'm also the only one you've spent any considerable time with."

Brittany nods. "Of your own will."

"You speak truth," He agrees with a shrug.

"How did you fall in with them?" Brittany asks. "Were you captured? Forced into servitude?"

Pegasus laughs. "Those are all enthralling theories, but I promise you my story is not so exciting."

Brittany waits patiently, taking a bite of her bread. Pegasus smiles at her innocent intrigue. "I suppose it can't hurt for me to keep you company for a while, though I fear my storytelling may just put you to sleep."

"Then you'll be released from telling me the story," Brittany points out. "Please, do share it with me."

"Very well," Pegasus sighs, though Brittany knows from his tone and the barest smile tugging at the corner of his mouth that he's secretly pleased to talk about himself to her.

"My father was a pirate, long ago," he starts, and Brittany can already tell he's a gifted story-teller. "There was a woman he visited often in port, whom he loved- though she was poor, and believed my father to be a sailor. When she became pregnant with me, my father planned to marry her, and rescue her from her life of poverty. However, when she discovered my father was actually a pirate soon after I was born, she never wanted to see him again; she left me with him and disappeared."

Brittany frowns. For someone with such a pleasant disposition, his history is rather sad. Brittany wonders how he maintained his gentle demeanor with such a devastating childhood. Then again, her own upbringing wasn't wonderful, either, and she likes to think herself a pleasant person. She looks at Pegasus thoughtfully. They are not so different. Perhaps Pegasus is right about his companions and himself not being savages.

"My father was determined, however," he continues, "he immediately went to enlist in the royal fleet, and straighten himself out to win her back. However, when he finally tracked down her whereabouts, he found out that she had died."

Brittany gasps at his words, covering her mouth. Sadness grips her heart and she thinks about how awful it must be to not know one's mother, to not even have the opportunity to. Pegasus smiles at her, reassuring her that he's not upset in the least as he finishes his story.

"Naturally, my father was distraught- he returned to his life of piracy, and I grew up with him on the ship. It's all I've ever known."

"Wow," Brittany murmurs. Then, a thought occurs to her: "Where is your father now? Is he still sailing with you?"

"He has retired," Pegasus says with a slight shake of his head. "He discovered a new love, and once I was old enough to handle myself, he didn't feel so guilty about leaving to forge a new life on land."

"Do you still see him?"

"Yes, frequently. He is our contact at port, and runs us all of our supplies for repairs, should we need them."

Brittany nods in understanding. "So you've been with this crew your entire life?"

"Not entirely; before our Captain took over, many of us- including him and our QuarterMaster, whom you've met- were crew of another ship. When it fell, we formed the crew of the _Tide Ripper_."

Brittany smiles at his obvious respect and affection for his ship and comrades. His loyalty doesn't go unnoticed, either. "You care a lot for them," she observes.

"I do. They have taken care of me for as long as I can remember."

"Just as you've taken care of me."

"It is my secondary job." Pegasus shrugs. "To watch after our prisoners."

"What is your first, if I may ask?"

"I am the cook; it's my responsibility to prepare meals."

Brittany looks down at the bread in her lap, suddenly feeling a lot more appreciative of it. "You're an excellent chef, Pegasus."

He pauses, then says, "It's Kurt."

"Your real name?" Brittany asks, surprised.

"Yes. I trust you won't use it against me?"

Brittany shakes her head, feeling honored that Kurt trusts her with his real identity- it's only fair, after all. She trusts him with hers. She smiles.

"Thank you for telling me, and for keeping me company today."

"It's truly my pleasure, Brittany. I'm sure you must be bored. Company helps pass the time." At Brittany's nod, he stands.

"However, I must exit now; I have to begin preparations for supper. I shall return later."

Brittany's expression falls.

"Hey," he says softly. "I'm sure we will hear word of your exchange soon. It will be all right."

Brittany smiles. "Thank you, Kurt."

He nods, and as he leaves, Brittany can't help wondering about Dia's back story, or what her real name is.

Two more days pass. Two more days spent in boredom, with only Kurt for company, though Brittany would never complain. He's shared with her stories of his adventures, describing places he's been in great detail. But even Kurt can't spend all day with her, and Brittany spends the majority of her two days waiting, bored and anxious. Waiting for word of her father's acceptance. Waiting to be sent back to a life she had just escaped from, only this time without her friends to help her. She still does not know Sam's fate.

Kurt has reassured her that Sugar is okay, and even passes along messages for her. But still the time drags on. The only excitement she has is in her conversations with Kurt.

"Have you been to Argo?" She wonders one morning, munching on slices of the exotic fruit she's come to enjoy. Kurt sits in a chair on the other side of her cage.

"Yes."

"Is it nice?"

Kurt pauses, weighing his words. Finally, he settles on, "It's... The nicest."

Brittany's heart sinks at the bittersweet news, especially when Kurt begins to describe it, and his words only confirm that Argo is more than she'd ever hoped it could be. The beaches, the people, the freedom... She feels as if she could cry. Her chest feels tight, and she's reminded of Sam, and the entire crew of the _Courage_- dead or lost, all because they were escorting her to Argo.

It would be one thing to discover Argo is nothing like she'd been told- then she could return to her father, without hope. She could mourn the loss of such a paradise and the passing of her crew, and move on with her life.

But to know that it was worth it? To know that it exists, that it's everything she'd dreamed? Her crew will never make it to Argo, because they were all killed. By _pirates_. The same pirates who now hold her captive. She tries to swallow the bitter taste in her mouth and ignore the twisting in her stomach. She has no idea which is worse, but she knows that she will never stop trying to make it to Argo.

But her crew-

"What's wrong?" Kurt asks gently, and his words make her realize that she's crying.

She gingerly touches her cheeks, finding them damp, and she draws a deep, shuddering breath.

"My ship and I... We were heading to Argo when..."

Kurt makes a noise of sympathy. "I'm sorry, Brittany," he says.

Brittany nods. She believes him.

Later that night, Brittany lies on her uncomfortable cot- an old, rickety thing with a mattress so thin it makes her lower back ache. But she stands by her original assumption that it's leagues better than being tied to a post, so she won't complain. Soon enough, she'll be back in her own bed. Her stomach twists at the thought.

She stares up at the rough stone ceiling, her mind racing, but not about her impending exchange.

She can't stop thinking about Dia'.

The pirate's red bandana rests next to Brittany on her flat pillow, tantalizing her with its scent, and Brittany sighs.

She can't stop remembering the way Dia' smelled, or how warm she was. It's been days since she's seen her, and she has so many other things to think about, but Dia' consumes her thoughts on this night, and Brittany can't understand _why_.

She closes her eyes and remembers the way she felt, her firm body pressed fully against her, and her pulse quickens, her breath catching in her chest. She's never felt this way before; she's had crushes in the past, stolen secret kisses with boys- sons of diplomats come to visit her father- a few times. But never did they evoke the kind of feelings she feels just thinking of the dark-haired pirate. She's never _wanted_ someone. She's never felt like her blood is on fire, like her heart might explode from beating so hard, never felt such a strong, insistent pull towards someone, never been punched with such strong arousal-

Groaning, she squeezes her eyes shut; she's touched herself before- more out of curiosity than anything else- but not as a response to the aching, throbbing _need_ that now resides between her legs.

She chews her lip. She's already had supper, and usually she's left alone for the rest of the night; she takes a deep breath, and can only feel an unbearable burning feeling that simmers beneath her skin. Would it be so bad to relieve it?

She slides her right hand across her taught, flat stomach, made flatter from weeks without the usual extravagant meals she'd been accustomed to her whole life. Her appetite's been satisfied lately, but not her _hunger-_ she imagines passionate brown eyes and creeps her hand lower.

"Brittany," Kurt calls softly into the dimly-lit room, and Brittany sits up, her heartbeat accelerating completely as adrenaline surges into her system. (_She could've been caught!_) She looks over expectantly at Kurt, trying her best to seem as if she'd been sleeping. His fine, soft features illuminated by the low lighting make him seem fiercer than he really is as he steps into view. If Kurt notices her flushed state, he says nothing as he unlocks her cage.

"What is it?" She wonders.

"Word has finally arrived," he tells her, turning the key in the lock, and Brittany's stomach twists again as the reality of her situation- and her two undesirable outcomes- hits her full force.

"It is almost nightfall," he tells her gently, swinging the door to her cage open. "We are to set sail to meet your lord's ship for the exchange."

Nodding, Brittany climbs to her feet. She pauses as Kurt continues, "But first, we'd like to give you the opportunity to clean yourself up. You look-" he winces. "Well. If you are to continue with disguising yourself, you should probably use this chance."

"You'd allow me to continue my masquerade?" Brittany asks, her heart giving a small pang of affection for the man in front of her and his consideration.

Kurt shrugs nonchalantly. "It is no concern of mine how you live your life, so long as I receive my cut of our payment."

Brittany nods, surprised at his generosity and bluntness, and allows him to lead her out of the room and down a series of dark, dimly-lit hallways. Again she is impressed with the size of the space she's been kept in as she follows him around a corner.

He stops at the entrance to a room, gesturing for her to enter, and once she does, she's greeted with the sight of a wash basin, a bathtub, and bathing supplies.

"I'll be outside if you need anything," he reassures. "You have one hour."

Kurt closes the door gently and Brittany takes a deep breath. She creates a mental list of things she needs to do; first priority- her clothes need to be washed.

She fills the metal bucket with hot water and then strips, awkwardly dumping her clothes and what she hopes is soap in next.

She rubs the fabric vigorously with her hands, unsure exactly how to even clean her clothes, since she's never had to do it before. She tries to scrub the blood out of the collar of Sam's white shirt, but has very little luck, and she's never missed Sugar more, or realized how very sheltered she's been. She gives up after a while in frustration and moves on to her pants and undergarments. Once she's finished, she lays them out as best she can to dry, and moves on to her next task.

She fills the bathtub, sighing with relief as she sinks into the hot water. Immediately she feels her sore muscles relaxing, her tension draining. She rubs at the muscles in her shoulders, letting the water loosen them and ease the ache. After soaking for a while, she begins the slow, thorough process of scrubbing the dirt, sweat, and dried blood from her skin. Her temple is still slightly tender as she prods it gingerly with her fingertip, but the scratch on her throat has at least scabbed over.

Once clean and feeling worlds better, she redresses quickly, frowning at the fact that her clothes are still damp. She regrets not having a change of clothes- a new problem for her- and comforts herself with the fact that she will never have to deal with such a problem again.

She's feeling a little more confident about returning to her father with Sugar. She will survive, and perhaps she can escape again once she marries Prince Rory. After all, it's just _marriage_, and leaving him would be just as easy as leaving her father; she could prepare herself far better the second time around. If Argo really is so great, nothing shall stop her. She'd wanted an adventure- a story- and now she has one. Someday, she will tell her children of the _Tide Ripper_, and of Kurt, and _Dia_'-

There's a brief knock before the door opens slowly, and Kurt smiles at her.

"Are you ready for departure?"

Brittany sets her jaw with determination and nods sternly.

She's ready. Her father won't be happy- and she's not looking forward to facing him.  
But the sooner she escapes the pirates, the sooner she can try again.

**AND THERE YOU HAVE IT. **

**I know, I know, this chapter was kind of boring; but next chapter the action will pick up again as they meet with the Duke's ship to make the exchange... Think everything will go smoothly? ;) **

**Well review if you feel like it! If not, then don't, I'll hopefully catch you next time! Ill try and have another chapter out for you before SOLOSMU drops, assuming my computer gets fixed in the next century... **

**See you soon, pals! :D **


	5. South

**A/N:** Hi everyone. Sorry for the long, terrible wait. As you all know, my computer was down for a while, and then I got backed up on my writing due to back-to-back-to-back holidays and traveling and my extensive work week and such, but this month my schedule should calm down so, fingers crossed, I will be updating more frequently. :)

Thanks to everyone who read the last, poorly-edited chapter and for being patient. You are all beautiful and perfect, so don't ever change your ways, voodoo.

Also, if you haven't read **Taken** by my wifey **killercereal** it's probably something you should do, because she's awesome and how can you not like Taken!Brittana? Sheer genius, tbh.

AND ALSO IF YOU MISSED IT FUCKING **NEVER TOUCH THE GROUND** UPDATED SO WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING READING THIS GO READ THAT AND REPORT BACK.

Actually, read this first, because after you read that, you will be dead. (I'm posting this from the grave.)

Lastly, BRITTANA FOREVER and Keep Hope Alive! :D

* * *

Santana leans against the rail of the deck, staring out over the waves, mentally preparing herself to keep a cool head during the impending exchange. The smell of salt and early morning whips across her face with the wind, and the sight of the sun rising in the distance, its warmth and rays spreading across the water, soothes her stormy thoughts.

Today, they will return Brittany and her companion. Today, they will receive a small fortune for practically no loss. Today, she will be free of the infuriating blonde and her universe eyes, and be rid of the almost overwhelming hunger for her in ways she is unaccustomed. She has to admit, she's proud of herself for not caving in to her desires, but at the same time, she regrets _not_ caving in to her desires. She will probably- no, _definitely_- never see Brittany again, and that relieves her. She's never been so paralyzed looking into someone's eyes before, never felt her nerves so on edge from another's proximity, and it scares her that a complete stranger- a _beautiful_ complete stranger- could hold so much power over her.

Honestly, good riddance.

"This is it," Puck says, coming to stand beside her. "After this, we're on our way."

"So you say," Santana grumbles, feeling slightly annoyed at the entire idea of their next long voyage. "But to where?"

"The Kingdom of Lao," Puck answers easily. "According to my _very reliable_ source, that's where the map is-"

"And how do we get it?" she hisses, turning to him, her eyes burning. "You never think these things _through_, Noah! The Kingdom of Lao is a fucking _fortress_. If we go blundering in there, we will all _die-_"

"I know that," Puck sulks.

Santana glares. "Do you? Then what's your plan?"

"I don't know yet," he mumbles, kicking his boot against the deck.

Santana sighs deeply, her expression softening. As frustrated as she is with him, it's because she does care for him. She doesn't want to see him disappointed if the whole thing turns out to be a hoax, but more, she doesn't want to lose anyone along the way. "Look," she starts, and he lifts his gaze, "I know you're excited about this score. I just don't want it to cost more than we're willing to pay to get it."

"I know," Puck admits. "But we're cunning. We're skilled. We will figure something out- we always do."

"SHIP, HO!"

"In the meantime, let's focus on getting through this exchange." He nods towards the speck in the distance- the approaching ship. Both of them wait for the call from high on the mast, watching the ship grow bigger as it approaches.

"LYCAN FLEET!"

"That'll be our ship," Puck says with a boyish grin. "You ready, Dia'?"

"Don't call me that," Santana sighs, letting her hand drift to the hilt of her sword as David moves to stand on her other side.

"I'll cut 'em open if they so much as _look_ at you wrong," he growls, crossing his arms.

"We don't want a fight," she reminds him with an amused smirk. She's grateful David is so protective of her, though. After Puck, he is her closest friend.

"I dunno why," David complains. "If ya ask me, we shoul' cut 'em down, take their money, and then ransom the girl directly."

"Yeah, well, no one asked you, idiot," Mike teases, taking his place on David's other side and completing their greeting party.

Santana laughs. "I like the way you think- but you know we are far more honorable than that. We will dicker with them- until they fuck up."

"Well, they sure look as if _they_ want a fight," Mike comments, gesturing to the Lycan ship, which is approaching them quickly and aggressively.

David chuckles. "Then I guess we'll give them what they want."

"No," Puck growls. "We need this money. We'll bargain with them."

"Until they fuck up," Santana repeats with a smirk.

They watch, tensely, as the ship comes close enough for them to read the name- _Journey_- and wait as it slows beside them. Heavy mooring lines get tossed aboard, and Santana takes a deep, calming breath. She doesn't like allowing others to board their ship- it feels too invasive, too much like giving up control. But a quick glance at Puck beside her reveals that he's got a smug look on his face, so she follows his lead of confidence as planks drop into place to form a bridge between the two ships.

A tall man swaggers aboard; the name embroidered in his jacket- a completely different style from Brittany's, Santana notes, confirming that the blonde does not originate from sea- reads _Captain Hudson _and Santana looks appropriately unimpressed. Two men flank him, both soldiers looking confident and powerful, but Santana does not bother to regard them with anything other than irrelevance. She watches Captain Hudson- if anything is to start, it will come by his word.

Captain Hudson looks around, taking in each of the pirates before him, before he eyes Puck. "I am Captain Finial Hudson, of the Lycan Fleet ship, _Journey_. I'm here to meet the demands of your exchange. Hand over the girl, and we will all leave here alive and unharmed."

Puck grins. "I am Captain TigerShark, of the _Tide Ripper_- Bane of Man, Teeth of the Sea, Destroyer of Worlds and Ladies' Hearts." Santana barely withholds her eyeroll at the pissing contest happening before her very eyes as Puck continues, "I will gladly return my prisoners to you- _if_ you have indeed met our demands."

Captain Hudson's expression hardens. "First show to me that the girl remains alive and uninjured."

Puck's grin widens. "Very well."

Santana nudges David. "Get the prisoners," she mutters, and he nods and slips away. She watches as Captain Hudson and Puck continue to size each other up, waiting for any sign that the Lycan officer is going to attack. But despite the heavy tension in the air, both sides remain where they stand, as if rooted by some silent rule as they wait for David to return with the prisoners.

While waiting, Santana quickly sizes up Captain Hudson's two henchmen. Neither of them are anything she can't handle, and on her own ship, she's more than reasonably certain that if this comes down to a fight, they'll come out on top.

_But we don't want a fight_, she reminds herself. Right.

"Do you have to be so _rude_?" the grating voice of the girl- who's not Brittany- snaps, and David hushes her, making Santana smirk a little. The girl continues to complain as David guides her and Brittany, both with wrists bound behind their backs, into the sightline of Captain Hudson.

"Now, the money," Puck demands, and after a moment's hesitance, the Captain holds up his hand, and two more soldiers carry a solid wooden trunk across the bridge, dropping it heavily to the deck. It clinks when it lands, and one of the soldiers lifts the lid, revealing its contents- gold and silver coins, too many to count.

At the sight of the gleaming coins, Puck nods, smiling. "Do we have a deal?"

The Captain's eyes narrow and he studies the two girls for a long moment, and Santana can practically see his brain working as he puzzles over Brittany's appearance. She wonders if he can tell that Brittany is, in fact, a woman, or if he recognizes her. She wonders if maybe they sailed together, regardless of the fact that Brittany obviously doesn't have her sea legs about her.

When Captain Hudson finally shakes his head a bit, Santana knows he's figured out his decision, and his lip curls up into a sneer as he says, "We'll take the girl that we came for. The other can rot."

Santana doesn't have time to wonder what that means- if the Captain discerned Brittany's secret or not- as David jostles the loud-mouthed girl forward, leaving Brittany where she stands.

"Not _her_," Captain Hudson halts him. He points at Brittany. "_She's_ the Duke's daughter. _She's_ the one we came for."

Santana feels her stomach tense, and all eyes on deck look to Brittany, who's standing defiantly, glaring at Captain Hudson, blue eyes narrowed into hard, angry slits. With the exception of her and Kurt, the rest of the crew- including Puck- had been under the impression that Brittany was a scrawny young lad. The revelation that she is not only a woman- but also the Duke's daughter in disguise- comes as a bit of a shock, and several of Santana's crew offer up curses of surprise.

"You'll take us _both_," Brittany demands angrily in a clear voice, interrupting her thoughts. "Or I refuse to-"

Captain Hudson returns her glare. "Don't shoot your mouth off, foolish girl," he snarls. "You're lucky we're taking _you_. Your father will see to it you're appropriately _rewarded _for this- you've wasted a lot of time and resources on this fantasy game of yours, and as I live and breathe, I'll have you returned safely to be dealt with accordingly."

Santana narrows her eyes. She doesn't like the sound of that, but she reminds herself it's not her problem, not her concern. What _is_ her concern is-

"And now, the money," Puck growls. Santana can practically feel the tension pouring off of him, and she swallows.

"Oh, didn't we tell you?" Captain Hudson laughs with a sinister smirk, and Santana feels her stomach sink as she realizes what's coming- "We don't make deals with _savages_." He looks at Brittany. "_Take her_, boys." He waves his hand lazily, and Santana watches with barely-contained rage as his soldiers draw their swords and advance.

"_Fuck_."

* * *

_This can't be happening._

Brittany barely has time to complete her thought before a smooth, caramel hand hits her shoulder hard, shoving her backwards and out of harm's way.

"Get back!" Dia' snarls, and Brittany stumbles off-balance; her boot catches on the deck and she falls, twisting so her thigh takes the brunt of her fall. She will be sore tomorrow, but better that than risk her head hitting the deck. Beside her, Sugar is not so lucky as she faints, collapsing in a tangled mess to the floor. She can't believe Captain Hudson- Finn, a good friend of her father's- betrayed not only her, but the pirates who've kept her in their care.

The sharp sound of more swords being drawn lures Brittany's attention to the fight, and as if by some magnetic pull, she can't tear her eyes away from Dia'. With almost inhuman speed, the woman's swords flash and the shrill clang of metal on metal rings out as she meets a rushing soldier's charge. She hopes that Kurt is somewhere safe, and Lord- who'd kept her company up until Scrap had fetched her- is hiding somewhere below decks. If the pirates lose, what will become of him? She briefly wonders if the _Journey_ has a sea cat-

"BREAK A-WAY!" someone shouts, and Brittany can't tell over the pandemonium around her if it's from her ship, or Finn's-

She shakes her head at her own confusing thoughts. _Finn's ship is her ship!_

The _Tide Ripper_ rocks to the left and back again breaking free of the _Journey_; the mooring lines snap and the bridge collapses to the waves below as the ships quickly put space between them. Brittany's not sure if she should panic at the thought that she won't be returned to her father, after all, or-

A piercing yelp draws her attention back to Dia', who's already fighting a new soldier a few paces away. She's impressed with the lady pirate's speed and skill as she watches her fight for the first time- since she'd been stowed away in Sam's cabin when the _Courage_ had been taken.

She cringes as Dia' disarms her second opponent- literally. The severed limb hits the deck with a sickening thump a few feet away, and with a twirl, Dia' gracefully thrusts her blade through the soldier's gut. When she pulls back, the man drops to the deck, clutching his stomach as his life drains out of him and he approached death; but all Brittany can look at or notice is the way Dia's tan skin practically glows in the sunlight.

She traces blue eyes down tense legs, studying the way her feet move, light and smooth, as if she's dancing on air. Her gaze scans back up, to the way her bare midriff tenses with the fluidity of her motion, with the way her defined arms cut through the air gracefully. Brittany can't stop discovering the beauty in her deadly movements, and all the while, Dia' blocks, parries, counterstrikes, her blades flashing, fatal.

Brittany knows she should be cheering for Finn, but-

"Aaah!" a soldier screams as Dia's blade cuts into his knee. He sinks down hard onto his other one, and all Brittany sees is red as Dia' mercilessly opens his throat. The man slumps forward. Blood spatters the deck. Brittany flinches.

The boom of a cannon nearby is just as deafening as it was that first night, and Brittany's ears ring from the reverberation. The sounds of fighting- of screams, of swords clashing repeatedly, of bodies hitting the deck- is drowned out by the explosion of another cannon firing, and this time, the occupants of the enemy ship- _no, Finn's ship, idiot!_- let loose a shout which is immediately cut off by the sharp whistling of the fired round cutting through the air.

The _Journey_ has precious seconds to react before the projectile smashes into its main mast. The thick wooden beam cracks and splinters, and Brittany watches in horrified awe as it topples and white sails crumple and fold. Brittany doesn't know much about sailing- actually, she knows nothing about sailing, really- but she knows there's no way the _Journey_ sail away from this battle.

As the main mast crashes to the deck and the sailors scramble to prevent any more damage, Brittany hears Dia's laughter rise up over the distressed chaos.

"Ace shot, Scrap!" she cheers, and Brittany feels her breath catch in her throat at the sight of Dia's smile- had she ever smiled before? Brittany's sure she would've remembered something so beautiful.

"Now _torch_ it!"

As if on cue, a nearby pirate launches a lit torch; it hurtles through the air, and the second it hits the deck of the _Journey_, the fallen sails ignite into a blazing inferno, spreading across the entire ship. Sailors scream, and Brittany feels awful for them- they were just coming to rescue her. Why did so many people die as a result of her one single action to run away?

"LAUNCH!" someone shouts, and Brittany looks up from her place sprawled on the deck to see two more sails unfurling. The sails drop down, fill, and within moments, the _Tide Ripper_ is picking up speed, leaving the _Journey_ burning in the distance, the forms of the soldiers scrambling to put out the flames.

"Off my ship, scum!" The Captain grunts from Brittany's right, and she watches as he plants his boot on a soldier's behind, sending him sprawling over the railing to land with a splash in the cold water below. Around them, the fight has died down. She surveys the deck and spies King with Finn, holding a sword to his throat.

"And what shall we do with '_im_, Cap'n?" King sneers.

"Dump his ass in a rowboat," The Captain smirks. "He's Captain of a _new_ ship, now."

King and another pirate drag Finn to the edge of the ship, but Brittany's attention is caught, once again, by Dia', who's wiping the blood from her sword with a rag. The Captain crosses to her, but slides a little in a puddle of blood.

"God _damn_ it," he curses, lifting his boot up disgustedly. "SWABBY! Swabby, on deck!"

Boots pound on wood and Brittany is surprised to see a boy, younger than her, come bouncing up from below deck. He's cute, and with his dark features, Brittany thinks he could be the Captain's younger brother.

Or son. She has no idea how old the Captain is, after all.

"Yes, Cap'n!" The boy answer obediently, standing at attention in front of him.

"Get this cleaned up!" The Captain barks, gesturing to the puddle of blood.

"Yes, Cap'n!" the boy says before rushing back below deck, presumably to get cleaning supplies, Brittany thinks.

"Shit," the Captain grumbles. "This kind of shit is _exactly_ why _we_ attack other ships and not the other way around."

"It's gonna take him forever to clean up," Dia' agrees, nodding in sympathy, and Brittany swallows at the smoky tone of her voice. A dead soldier slides across the deck before her, being dragged by a pirate, and Dia' tosses the rag she's been using to wipe her sword clean on top of him, shrugging with disregard. Brittany watches, a little shaken, as the pirates begin dumping the soldiers' corpses overboard, going about the routine with detached indifference, and maybe that's what surprises Brittany the most. She knew the pirates were ruthless, but to not care for the dead _at all_?

It brings one all-consuming thought to the front of her mind: _what's going to happen to her now?_

As if reading her thoughts, Dia' turns her cool, calculating brown eyes on her, and the penetrating gaze makes Brittany shiver, but not just from fear. Brittany struggles to get control of her emotions as Dia' studies her, trailing eyes down her neck to stop at the hollow of Brittany's throat.

She gulps.

"He's quartered," King calls as he walks up beside Dia', dusting his hands on his striped pants. He follows her gaze and his eyes land on Brittany, then slide over to Sugar, who is still in the same position from when she fainted, sprawled out on the deck. "Now what to do with the girls, eh?"

"Indeed," Santana says lowly, her voice practically purring. Her eyes never stray from Brittany's throat.

"I say we kill them," Scrap chimes in suddenly from behind Brittany. She bites her lip. "They _lied_ to us."

"Can't say I entirely _blame_ them, seeing as how _we're pirates_," another man says dryly, pushing his spectacles further up his nose. Brittany openly gapes at him. She didn't realize wooden legs actually existed, but the man in front of her sports a thin peg attached to his left knee, making her wonder if _every_ tall tale she'd ever heard about pirates is true.

"Get up," Scrap growls, grabbing her by the arm and hauling her effortlessly to her feet. Beside her, King shakes Sugar awake and helps her, a little more gently, to stand. Heavy steps draw Brittany's attention to the Captain, who scrutinizes them carefully.

"Seems like a waste to dispose of them, Cap'," King says thoughtfully. "We might still collect somethin' for 'em."

"From who?" The peg-legged pirate wonders.

"Maybe _The Lioness_," someone offers.

"Or maybe _The Bieste_," another guy jibes, earning some catcalls and laughs. "Sell them into slavery."

"Hah," The Captain laughs. He looks expectantly at Dia'. "What do you think?"

"_The Beiste_ might take them," Dia' starts slowly. "But they're scrawny. They won't fetch much of a price- not worth the trip, I'd say."

Brittany holds her breath as cold, brown eyes find hers, fixing her with a hard look, and her stomach freezes when she says,

"Throw them overboard with the others."

"What!" Sugar exclaims from beside her, and Brittany's eyes widen.

_This can't be happening._

"We have no use for them," Dia' continues coldly. "_The Lioness_ won't take them- not now that they've lost their bartering value. We've already collected the money for their return." She waves her hand dismissively, and Brittany notices the large trunk sitting in the middle of the deck. Is that her ransom money? "Let us rid ourselves of them and move on."

The Captain looks like he might argue, but he doesn't. He pauses for a moment, waiting for someone to object, and when no one does, he offers Dia' a curious smile, and then turns to Scrap. "Well- you heard the QuarterMaster," he says with a grin. "_Kill them_."

"Good one, Dia'," Scrap smirks. He lays a heavy hand on Brittany's shoulder, and Brittany tenses. Should she fight? Should she struggle? She's not even sure she can _swim_- will they untie her first and give her a chance? Or will they- "Come on, then, fish fodder-"

"No, _wait_," Kurt's voice calls across deck in objection as he pushes his way to the Captain's side; Brittany's never been so relieved to see his face. He wipes his hands- which are covered in blood- on a piece of cloth, and once he realizes he has everyone's attention, he continues, "We can _use_ them."

"For what?" Scrap demands. Dia' narrows her eyes, but remains silent as Kurt entreats the Captain.

"Free labor. You said yourself _Swabby's_ having a hard time keeping up with all the tasks. And I could sure use some help in the kitchen."

"And wha' about _this_ one?" Scrap sneers, stabbing his finger at Sugar.

"She can be our maid."

"Excuse me?" Sugar demands, raising a defiant eyebrow. Brittany prays she shuts up-

"I'm not sure that mouth of hers makes for a good maid," The Captain chuckles, but he doesn't protest.

"So we'll teach her," Kurt shrugs. "Look- we have two _free slaves_ here. I think we should take advantage of this opportunity. We won't get much of a price for them, anyway."

It's silent for a moment, and Brittany chews her lip, waiting for her fate to be determined, and then King says, "I agree. I'll take an extra hand in repairs. 'Sides, we got what we came for- we have the ransom money. This is a good deal."

The Captain smirks, looking a little relieved, and Brittany can't help but think he might have a heart deep down- he might not have actually wanted to kill her and Sugar. "You make valid points."

"So, what're you saying, Sparkle-Pony?" Scrap demands, and Kurt glares at the jibing nickname. "You want to make them _one of us_?"

"No," Kurt says, slow and barbed. "They're _slaves_, not pirates. They retain no rank on this, or any of our ships."

King shrugs in concurrence, and the Captain nods thoughtfully, but Dia' looks ready to slit Brittany's throat herself, and Brittany's not sure how she feels about being a _slave_-

"It's not enough," Dia' growls. "And two more mouths to feed certainly _isn't_ a good deal."

"Two more mouths for _who_ to feed?" Kurt mutters, but Brittany's heard about enough. Being a slave isn't the most ideal situation, but the alternative- being tossed overboard with the corpses- is far less appealing.

"Please let me stay," she begs, speaking up suddenly, and once everyone's staring at her, she swallows down her fear. "I admit, I know nothing about sailing, or maintaining a ship, or pirating, or-"

"_Not_ helping your case," Kurt cuts in.

"But I _do_ know-" Brittany fumbles for something useful, some skill she might possess that might be viewed as an asset, and blurts, "I know what the symbols of my father's naval fleet mean."

"Why would _that_ do us any good?" Scrap sneers.

"Idiot," King says, hitting him over the head with his fist. "She knows which ones are worth looting, and which ones we should stay away from because they'll be armed. It's invaluable information."

The Captain's interest has definitely been piqued, Brittany can tell, and after staring at her for another minute, he nods, looking to Dia' for her approval. "I accept. What do you say?"

Dia' glares, shaking her head slowly. "I reserve judgment; she can stay- for _now_. She _will_ aid us- until we find a _better_ use for her." Brittany swallows hard at the alluring way she says _better_. She hasn't even begun to think about what more time with the lady pirate might mean. Her thoughts fly in all directions for a moment before Dia's voice brings her back to harsh reality. "But you'd _best_ not be leading us into any traps, or I promise you, I'll cut you down where you stand."

"Prove your worth, girl," Scrap growls, acquiescing to the terms, and Brittany feels like a huge pressure has been lifted from her chest.

Despite everything, she can't stop the small smile that lights up her face. "I won't let you down," she says. "I promise!"

The Captain laughs. "You'd better hope not. And Sparkly-Horse-"

"It's _Pegasus_."

"Right. Well. The girl is _your_ charge from now on."

"Grand," Kurt mutters.

"And what about me?" Sugar demands boldly.

"There's plenty of clothes in need of laundering, _wench_," Scrap snarls, and Sugar's appalled face makes Brittany smile a little bit wider. It's definitely not what she expected, but again- at least she's not dead. Somehow, she has escaped a terrible fate once again- she _thinks_.

"Welcome aboard the _Tide Ripper_," The Captain laughs, before turning away in a flourish and barking orders at some men along the deck rail. The other pirates disperse, moving to attend to their various duties, leaving Brittany standing with Sugar, Dia' and Kurt.

It's silent for a moment; Kurt looks sullen, Dia' looks wickedly amused, and Sugar looks terrified. Brittany swallows. She feels as if she should say something to break the tension, but she's unsure what to say that she hasn't said already.

"I'll try to be a good slave," she offers softly, feeling nervous for reasons she can't name.

"Excellent- you can start right now," Dia' says with a sinister smirk. "_Jake_!"

The young boy from earlier comes running, and he stands at attention again before the lady pirate, awaiting her orders. "Yes, Master!"

Dia' smirks wider. "Get _Her Highness_ a bucket and mop. She's gonna help you clean up all this _blood_."

Brittany swallows. "Grand."

* * *

By the time the sun sets, Brittany's exhausted. She's never had to do so much physical work- or any physical work- in her life. Her muscles ache in new places, places she didn't know could ache. The white sleeves of Sam's borrowed shirt are rolled up to her elbows but even still, the fabric is covered in blood that she knows she'll never wash out on her own.

She's vomited twice; partly because of the gore, but mostly because of the swaying and rocking of the ship as it travels over the rough waves. She hadn't noticed how prominent the rocking was until she had to try and do something other than stand, and the water is especially choppy as the _Tide Ripper_ makes its way back to its home island.

When Kurt finally finds her at the end of the day and escorts her below deck to her normal holding area, Brittany collapses in relief on a familiar pile of rope, sliding her eyes shut. She feels like she could sleep forever and never wake up. She feels like maybe being tossed overboard might not have been so bad. She knows for a fact the other pirates hate her, though she doesn't know why- she doesn't think she's done anything to offend them. The only one who treats her with any kindness is Kurt, and she's starting to believe she was right in her initial assessment about the pirates.

The sound of Kurt clearing his throat makes her force her eyes open regretfully, and she sighs, sitting up and preparing to be returned to her bound position from earlier. Kurt smiles tightly at her. "You're part of this ship, now, Brittany- so long as you earn your keep- and because of that, I'm not going to tie you back up."

Surprised, Brittany opens her mouth to speak, but Kurt cuts her off, continuing, "Our ship is built on trust. Don't betray mine- stay down here until I fetch you in the morning." At Brittany's nod, he leaves, telling her, "get some rest. You have another long day tomorrow."

Once he's gone, Brittany settles against her rope pile, listening to his footsteps above her head and sighing again. She tries not to recall her tasks from earlier, and instead, tries to find the positives in her situation, but-

"Britt?"

Her head snaps up at the sound of Sugar's uncertain voice from the blackness. "Sugar?"

Swift, light footsteps greet her ears, and then Sugar's throwing herself against her in a hug so tightly it makes her already-aching ribs ache further. Sugar shakes against her, and Brittany feels a strange sort of bittersweet at being in a position to comfort the girl- when normally Sugar does the comforting- and at being a source of strength for a change. However, the fact that she must comfort her friend under such a grim situation leaves her sad and faltering for words.

"Brittany, what are we going to do?" Sugar whimpers into her shoulder. Brittany tightens her arms around her. "I had to _launder clothes_, Britt. So many stinking, putrid clothes, and they were so _awful_-"

"What we've _been_ doing," Brittany answers, before Sugar can get herself too riled up. "_Survive_. And possibly- eventually- buy ourselves freedom to Argo. I admit, this is a rather large setback; but we can work extra hard, and perhaps Kurt will vouch for us once again-"

"Who?"

"And, in time, we might earn our freedom. Then, we continue on to Argo and wait for word from Samson."

Sugar shifts uncomfortably against her. "Oh, Britt," she says softly, carefully. "I don't think he's-"

"_Mow_."

Sugar pauses to stare as a large cat- Lord- comes waddling out of the shadows and plops down next to Brittany's thigh, purring immediately.

"Hello, there," Brittany greets with a soft smile, reaching to pet him. She's grateful that her hands are free and she's able to stroke her fingers through his fur, causing him to purr louder. Lord arches into her touch, and Sugar repositions herself against her side, leaning her head on her shoulder.

"That cat looks like he eats better than we do," she grumbles.

"He does," Brittany tells her sincerely. Silence- except for Lord's purring- falls over them for a moment, and Brittany thinks about her- their- future with the pirates. She hopes they won't have to serve the pirates in _every_ manner; she's been terrified of such a fate befalling Sugar, but now that her secret is out amongst the crew, she knows they are both in danger. She can only hope that Kurt, as decent as he seems to be, will prevent such an event from happening.

She looks down at Sugar, who's still holding onto her tightly. The girl is a few years younger than her and has served Brittany her entire life. Brittany feels responsible for her safety, especially since she accompanied her on their trip. She tightens her arm around Sugar's shoulders.

"I promise I won't let anything bad happen to us," she whispers. "We'll make it out of this."

Yawning, Sugar nods against her shoulder, and Brittany takes it as a good sign. She doesn't want to think about the worst happening. She thinks, instead, on their current situation. It seems dire- she'd never imagined she'd ever be a slave, and especially not one on a pirate ship; the very idea seems ludicrous. But despite their predicament, she must admit there are a few positive things.

She has Sugar with her. She doesn't have to marry Prince Rory. They are both mostly safe. They are _alive_. She has made a friend in Kurt, at the very least- _and Lord_. She smiles as she pets the large fluffball curled up next to her. Perhaps, in time, she will earn other friendships. Certainly not _all_ the pirates hate her without reason. Some of them might be indifferent. King seemed promising. And Dia'-

She smiles wider. She can do this. She will win the pirates over, and when the time comes, she will be able to buy her and Sugar's freedom. She just has to earn their favor-

And then her stomach sinks as she remembers- she's supposed to identify her father's Fleet ships, which _would_ work out very well, except for one tiny problem:

She has no idea how to do that.

* * *

**Ohhh boy. I think Brittany's probably going to get herself in some trouble… what do you guys think?**

**Next chapter we will start to see Brittana interacting more, finally! Haha (trust me, I want to write it a badly as you guys want to read it, lololol) So stay tuned! **

**Review if you feel like it, but if not, that's okay. I'll catch you on the next cruise, lololol.**

**FUN FACT TIME:**

_**Sea cats**_**~ are actually a thing. Most ships, up until pretty recently, kept a cat on board for several reasons. They helped with the rat population, they were a source of comfort to men out at sea- because really, who doesn't like cats? (meeeeow, pun intended!)- and also, cats have been a source of superstition for a long time, in that they can predict when bad weather is coming, and just other general hocus-pocus-y type shit stemming waaaay back from when cats were believed to be gods. **

**Personally, I think cats still believe they are gods. It's in their ancestry. ;)**

**See you next time, pals! **


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